A shiver runs through Carlisle as that frosty mist is forced from Glacius' gills, the gust so strong that it challenges the chill of the night air and easily wins. "G- Glacius wait, I—!"
He sighs and quiets down, frustration etching into his features. It's no use. He recognizes that tone far too well; he's heard it before, that defiance so characteristic of Algidus making itself known in Glacius instead. It's aimed not at the clergyman himself, but at some intangible force the alien cannot hope to defeat... and yet, Carlisle knows that he will try. That much might as well be an absolute fact.
As he had done with Algidus, Carlisle falls in line without another word of protest, more content to follow along behind Glacius than to bicker. While not eager to speed himself toward an early death, hence his general sense of dread regarding everything, he long ago accepted the fact that his life will be relatively short, even compared to the rest of his bloodline, who lived far more daring and dangerous lives than he ever has. That's just how it is with the twice-cursed, even one who does his best to avoid using the dark gifts granted to him by his accidental passage into the Land Beyond Living. He's had that knowledge for years now; Glacius, on the other hand, just found out only a short time ago. He cannot yet accept it.
His determination is so like his greener kinsman, Carlisle's friend -- former friend, he reminds himself -- yet different somehow. That same conviction is there, sheer willpower pushing him forward when logic should dictate otherwise; however, it is redirected in some way that is familiar, but Carlisle can't quite put it together. His brow furrows -- he's seen Algidus get worked up in this way before, but when was it? And what had it been over?
With another quiet sigh, he adjusts his glasses and pulls his makeshift cape closer around him, his outfit held tightly to him as his eyes remain on the ground. He doesn't want to think about the turmoil he's just put Glacius through, or about the cold, and certainly not about the buildings they're going to have to pass to get home. He's ruined the night enough already.
no subject
He sighs and quiets down, frustration etching into his features. It's no use. He recognizes that tone far too well; he's heard it before, that defiance so characteristic of Algidus making itself known in Glacius instead. It's aimed not at the clergyman himself, but at some intangible force the alien cannot hope to defeat... and yet, Carlisle knows that he will try. That much might as well be an absolute fact.
As he had done with Algidus, Carlisle falls in line without another word of protest, more content to follow along behind Glacius than to bicker. While not eager to speed himself toward an early death, hence his general sense of dread regarding everything, he long ago accepted the fact that his life will be relatively short, even compared to the rest of his bloodline, who lived far more daring and dangerous lives than he ever has. That's just how it is with the twice-cursed, even one who does his best to avoid using the dark gifts granted to him by his accidental passage into the Land Beyond Living. He's had that knowledge for years now; Glacius, on the other hand, just found out only a short time ago. He cannot yet accept it.
His determination is so like his greener kinsman, Carlisle's friend -- former friend, he reminds himself -- yet different somehow. That same conviction is there, sheer willpower pushing him forward when logic should dictate otherwise; however, it is redirected in some way that is familiar, but Carlisle can't quite put it together. His brow furrows -- he's seen Algidus get worked up in this way before, but when was it? And what had it been over?
With another quiet sigh, he adjusts his glasses and pulls his makeshift cape closer around him, his outfit held tightly to him as his eyes remain on the ground. He doesn't want to think about the turmoil he's just put Glacius through, or about the cold, and certainly not about the buildings they're going to have to pass to get home. He's ruined the night enough already.