The Brucolac shook his head. Ishtar grasped clumsily at strands of his hair; he gave a shocked breath of laughter at the motion.
"I didn't," he said. "Turns out the armour is. Good at getting the job done. I just stepped into nowhere and ended up here."
No, he had ended up in the courtyard, and he knows precisely why. He had stepped into nowhere and trusted he would find somewhere safe; he had ended up in the first place he had found something like solace in the Drabwurld. It made sense.
He looked to Sara. His face was drawn with weariness, but he managed the faintest smirk. Self-deprecating. "Sentiment. Most likely."
no subject
"I didn't," he said. "Turns out the armour is. Good at getting the job done. I just stepped into nowhere and ended up here."
No, he had ended up in the courtyard, and he knows precisely why. He had stepped into nowhere and trusted he would find somewhere safe; he had ended up in the first place he had found something like solace in the Drabwurld. It made sense.
He looked to Sara. His face was drawn with weariness, but he managed the faintest smirk. Self-deprecating. "Sentiment. Most likely."