Cultists and cannibals were two separate threats in snowy Halo, but Tal had bad experiences with both and liked neither. Which was true of most Halovians, really; the land was harsh enough without having to contend with other humans trying to kill you for various reasons that the courier couldn't wrap his head around.
"My dad was killed because some cultists decided to listen when the spirit of Deepfrost told them to attack the Citadel," Tal said with his usual scowl, glaring at Chaele. "So yeah. I do think there's something wrong with it."
At her question of hospitality he looked around at the mud surrounding the hill, and the dead rat, and the person in the creepy mask, and the expression on his face was incredulous. "Bit late for that," he grumbled. "But I'm not going to knife you, if that's what you mean."
His gaze had been inward and his smile for neither jungle nor fire but something nearby and fierce and proud. He glanced over to her as he nursed the flames like he would a child; better, because he was terrible with kids but an experienced master of building fires in hostile environments. "Sure, I mean, you can spice your rat however you want." He shrugged and then tilted his head to the side, feral grin making a flickering reappearance. "Me? I'm having fish for dinner."
"My dad was killed because some cultists decided to listen when the spirit of Deepfrost told them to attack the Citadel," Tal said with his usual scowl, glaring at Chaele. "So yeah. I do think there's something wrong with it."
At her question of hospitality he looked around at the mud surrounding the hill, and the dead rat, and the person in the creepy mask, and the expression on his face was incredulous. "Bit late for that," he grumbled. "But I'm not going to knife you, if that's what you mean."
His gaze had been inward and his smile for neither jungle nor fire but something nearby and fierce and proud. He glanced over to her as he nursed the flames like he would a child; better, because he was terrible with kids but an experienced master of building fires in hostile environments. "Sure, I mean, you can spice your rat however you want." He shrugged and then tilted his head to the side, feral grin making a flickering reappearance. "Me? I'm having fish for dinner."
