[ Again, Howl does not answer, but the silence is thick as he comes to fully understand Estinien's meaning. He's... sparing him. The realization fills Howl with a tumultuous mix of emotions — shock and disbelief and gratitude, yes, but also distinct feelings of regret, resentment, and fear. Somehow, after everything that's happened, after all the unexpected factors that lead to his defeat, this is the most unforeseen attack of all.
Howl's shoulders heave as he takes a deep breath, and although he means to exhale it into bitter laugh, his breath catches and it turns into into a sputtering of blood. As his fist tightens around the Shard again, blood gushes from between his fingers from the gash on his palm. ]
Hah. That was supposed to be my line...
[ What will the Regent think if he gives him the vial? Is the sludge... important, somehow? Howl wants to tell himself that it isn't, that the cultists seem to have no problem making bucketloads of the stuff whenever needed, but who can say? What if its possession by the Pleroma is disastrous in some other unknown way? But, more importantly, does it even matter? Howl in no position to deny Estinien's demands. There is nothing he can do now. Neither Estinien's pity nor judgment in the eyes of the Regent.
Slowly, with enormous effort, Howl pulls his outstretched arm back to his chest, curling it within his thick covering of feathers. After another moment and shuddered breath, he pulls out the vial from some unknown place and offers it to Estinien with much less ardor. ]
no subject
Howl's shoulders heave as he takes a deep breath, and although he means to exhale it into bitter laugh, his breath catches and it turns into into a sputtering of blood. As his fist tightens around the Shard again, blood gushes from between his fingers from the gash on his palm. ]
Hah. That was supposed to be my line...
[ What will the Regent think if he gives him the vial? Is the sludge... important, somehow? Howl wants to tell himself that it isn't, that the cultists seem to have no problem making bucketloads of the stuff whenever needed, but who can say? What if its possession by the Pleroma is disastrous in some other unknown way? But, more importantly, does it even matter? Howl in no position to deny Estinien's demands. There is nothing he can do now. Neither Estinien's pity nor judgment in the eyes of the Regent.
Slowly, with enormous effort, Howl pulls his outstretched arm back to his chest, curling it within his thick covering of feathers. After another moment and shuddered breath, he pulls out the vial from some unknown place and offers it to Estinien with much less ardor. ]