disclaimer: i'm assuming that other's care about Piety's disappearance and there has been some work done to look for her. Hocus, however, is not as convinced as I am ;) and becu, no idea what ryvet's actual motivations were in leaving, I'm just figuring Hocus wouldn't know about them.
It was hard for him to justify why he was still here. Piety's scent had long faded. His mission had certainly never been to return
here, to his wretched birthlands. He had not intended to witness the all-too-quick unraveling of his father, his eventual death. And how Rook seemed to fray at the seams, god, how could he justify bearing witness to this grieving that well above and beyond what God allotted to any given soul. Piety went missing and, despite Veho and Rook's bristling, guarding behaviors that had nearly barred him entrance, no one seemed to care. They barely tried. @
Ryvet, the useless cur that he had always been, simply up and left. The white lord's face and movements seemed constrained and overly contemplative as he arrived at the gathering. It was important that he figured out what he was doing here. If there was any reason to leave, it would be wise to tell the new leaders as soon as it occurred to him.
But what
was it that tethered him here?
His eyes drifted to Tomen. He shared some affection for the thoughtful boy, who seemed mostly untainted by the sinful family and regional history. There was some sense of duty where the boy was concerned. But was it
Tomen that kept him here? No. He barely ever addressed the boy directly. The duty he felt to his nephew was dwarfed by magnitudes of pain in comparison to just one flickering thought of Piety's broken smile. His eyes drifted around the assembled.
Was it Rook? Did one comfort the grieving when they were no better than strangers? The woman — Porcupine, or whatever her name was — his wife, and Veho seemed to take up that mantle. There was little place for Hocus to play minister. He hardly wanted to, anyway, feeling that Rook was being particularly egocentric about the whole affair. But in truth it had more to do with the second-born's own feelings, feelings he was
sure Rook did not share. He was afraid to voice them, confused about how to mourn. How does one mourn a man who was never there? From how Rook seemed to cherish Borden it was clear that, to some extent, the old man had cleaned up his act and shaped up. But it was not the man that Hocus knew. A sigh dripped from his mouth as he took a seat somewhere near Tomen. Preoccupied, his diligent head-bob to Veho, to Jynx, seemed quite watery.
If he was honest, it was because he felt that even without Piety there were things that had to be done. Riddles that needed solving. Something had harmed her. Something
here in Relic Lore. Even without her confession he could still learn, still investigate. He was a father, yes. But he was an Arbitrator first, and extension of his God's will. And he knew now that God meant for him this task. This offering was God's apology for testing his daughter so. And Hocus planned to take it, to condem whoever had wronged his beautiful Piety.
He would find them. He would stay.
"
Peace be with you," he offered solemnly to everyone in attendance.
(This post was last modified: Dec 14, 2015, 11:03 PM by Sahalie.)