LOREN
Although Loren knew that Neron had taken over the Kraai, the younger twin hadn't made much time to actually see the elder, seeing as Loren needed some time to lick his wounds in private after everything that happened over Deepfrost. Now, when he was streaked with soot and singed by fire, scarred, and looking gaunt and pale, probably wasn't the best time to rectify that. But he needed somewhere to process, and it was past time the brothers spoke.
So the healer staggered over to the tavern. Peering inside, he frowned when he saw how crowded it was. Quickly schooling his features into a neutral mask, he marched up to the bar and tapped on it, hoping to get the Hailstorm's attention.
Studiously ignoring the curious and concerned looks he was getting (even the ones from Astra, who'd trotted in behind him), the healer just stood tall. The way his fingers twisted around the scarred flesh of his hands belied the anxiety roiling just beneath, though.
So the healer staggered over to the tavern. Peering inside, he frowned when he saw how crowded it was. Quickly schooling his features into a neutral mask, he marched up to the bar and tapped on it, hoping to get the Hailstorm's attention.
Studiously ignoring the curious and concerned looks he was getting (even the ones from Astra, who'd trotted in behind him), the healer just stood tall. The way his fingers twisted around the scarred flesh of his hands belied the anxiety roiling just beneath, though.
But don’t be weary if it’s broken
Families are like that—
they’re split up and always torn.
