Her reaction was why he had made sure to steer clear of the question back when he had first brought her up the monadnock, even though the curiosity had been at the fore of his mind. Not because he feared her emotion, or otherwise looked down upon it, but for her own wellbeing. While she started out calm and composed, the more she said the more fragile her composure became. He could hear the wobble in her voice, the suppression of sadness, and still he only listened, silent, letting her say her piece.
She finished on an apology, and he was swift to shake his head - even if she might not have seen it, for Piety had turned herself away, as if in shame of herself, as if unable to look him in the eye.
"I asked," he said softly, to dismiss her apology, to partly take the blame. It had been her decision to answer, so he did not apologise for his own curiosity, and she had brought up Sven all by herself; he did not feel guilt over putting his foot in the doorway when she had already opened the door.
There was so much of interest in her retelling:
one and only, kept like a secret... loving man. While he did not doubt that that was how Piety may truly view Skoll, Craw could not help the ugly feeling that her view was twisted, warped by her own love and naivety. Skoll had used her, had barely raised his child, had gone on to do the same to some other bitch the year after, and Craw would have put money on him doing the exact same thing next rutting season. It was who the man was.
But as he looked at her, he could not simply point that out, could not risk damaging her already vulnerable state. She had chosen to open up. He could not abuse that.
"As far as I have heard, your boy is doing well now. He is loyal to the Ridge, to his family. He is passionate and headstrong and does what he believes is right." And he had a lot of potential, which Craw had long accepted he would never reap the rewards of. If only he knew how Sven might have felt at his mother's living here, he may have realised just how large the divide was between himself and the young bastard Archer.
"That's all we can hope for."
Not that he knew anything of Odysseia except that she may yet breathe, that she may yet think they could be reunited. If Piety felt as though she had abandoned her child... well, Craw knew that pain all too well. His chest was already tight just at this barest reminder.
"The past is behind you, Piety. It's behind us all. Build something great and new, here, with the rest of us."
(This post was last modified: Jan 04, 2017, 03:41 PM by Craw.)