Hobbling on his cane, Shealtiel makes his way over to where Kasdeja has confronted the young woman. A cold fear grips him as he forces himself to approach, remembering the brush of the Nephilim's psychic fingers on his heart, the tightening of arteries... but he will not allow himself to think of the creature, not directly, knowing that it can sense his terror and the desperate threats that terror engenders in his mind.
"Do you know this creature?" he demands hoarsely as he draws near. Looking at her, he can plainly see that she doesn't. "What goes on here? Who are you?" he asks her, straining to soften his voice. "Has Kasdeja said anything to you?"
"Do you know this creature?" he demands hoarsely as he draws near. Looking at her, he can plainly see that she doesn't. "What goes on here? Who are you?" he asks her, straining to soften his voice. "Has Kasdeja said anything to you?"
Cold silence has a tendency
to atrophy any sense of compassion
between supposed lovers.
Between supposed brothers.
to atrophy any sense of compassion
between supposed lovers.
Between supposed brothers.

Trisphee










