Dain, genuinely stern, is a sight he usually reserves for those who have presented him with no other option. The soldiers, for example. Certain colleagues back in Cliffside. But the turn this conversation has taken is startling enough, frightening enough, that it cuts right through any measured response he might have had. The church isn't going to kill anyone today, not if he has anything whatsoever to say about it.
He hesitates a moment, like he has to adjust to his own severity; but then he goes on. "I meant what I said before, Vervain." If, indeed, he ever did say it -- he can't quite remember. "I'm not here to kill you, and I won't let anyone else kill you either. Even if that means locking you in this wagon until you start to see sense. So help me, I will lock you both in here until the snow melts."
A pause. A breath. Dain steps over to sit down, and puts his hand over one of Vervain's. "There is no version of this world," he says, much more gently, "that is made better for the absence of you in it. You didn't become a priest to give up the moment you're faced with the flaws of humanity, and you cannot make yourself the sole exception."
no subject
Dain, genuinely stern, is a sight he usually reserves for those who have presented him with no other option. The soldiers, for example. Certain colleagues back in Cliffside. But the turn this conversation has taken is startling enough, frightening enough, that it cuts right through any measured response he might have had. The church isn't going to kill anyone today, not if he has anything whatsoever to say about it.
He hesitates a moment, like he has to adjust to his own severity; but then he goes on. "I meant what I said before, Vervain." If, indeed, he ever did say it -- he can't quite remember. "I'm not here to kill you, and I won't let anyone else kill you either. Even if that means locking you in this wagon until you start to see sense. So help me, I will lock you both in here until the snow melts."
A pause. A breath. Dain steps over to sit down, and puts his hand over one of Vervain's. "There is no version of this world," he says, much more gently, "that is made better for the absence of you in it. You didn't become a priest to give up the moment you're faced with the flaws of humanity, and you cannot make yourself the sole exception."