How cruel it is, this month. It's as if the cold has taken the very breath from our bodies, laying it out for everyone to witness. I watched you, oh yes. You scurried around like so many ants, confused and wary, but still so very trusting. Like every flood before this. Like every breach. Every port. You slide into the trusting hands of the Admiral
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It might not be the kindest sentiment, but affected or not it is a reliable one.
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At the very least friendliness. One need not be kind to be a friend.
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Now what?
[Sorry, Rhade, Iago was bound to break down at some point.]
What the hell am I supposed to think?
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Are you going to look for him?
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I'm rarely optimistic but I'm fairly certain he and his sister are too stubborn to die.
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I can't thik about that now. I have too much to focus on.
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