sleepy time

Summary: Having agreed to lead as the representative for The Tenakth clans in Hekarro’s and Avad’s second attempt at an Embassy, Kotallo reflects on his own feelings of devotion and how all roads seem to lead him back to a certain flame-haired huntress.

Read now on AO3: The Sharpest Point

Chapter 9, is officially LIVE!

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Originally posted by tokine

---Preview of Chapter 9 ---

You could take any ambiguous emotion and if you dug deep enough, you would find a single root: hunger.  Hunger being the base experience of all creatures of flesh and blood- though Aloy has called it something like bio... biotech-biology. Something like that. Anyways. Hunger teaches you to live- when you're a baby, hunger teaches you to cry.   And as you get older, hunger teaches you to hunt.  So just as much as we know that to hunger is to be driven to eat, to hunt and to achieve; hunger becomes more nuanced with each new feat. Evolving and adapting just as much as we do.  Hunger becomes desire and desire likes to masquerade behind different faces making you think it's complex. It's not desire, it's a "goal." It's not desire, it's "ambition." It's not desire, it's "hope." But really, it's not desire- it's hunger, plain and simple. And these two before her were starving.  

Chapter 8, is officially LIVE!

Read now:

Chapter 1: Handler  | Chapter 2: Position | Chapter 3: A Good Man

Chapter 4: Shame | Chapter 5: Pledge | Chapter 6: The View from Outside

Chapter 7: Confrontation | Chapter 8: Being Human

Originally posted by tokine

---Preview of Chapter 8 ---

In one corner, sat Avad. A man meant to carry all the dignity and high-ground of a peace-seeking king, and in the other, Kotallo. Someone who she personally knew to walk with the pride and reputation of a nation of duty-bound warriors.   By all accounts, these two should be above this sort of childish display, yet Aloy found herself staring pointedly at two petulantly sulking excuses for men.   She crossed her arms, expectant-  the silence reigned. Gazing pointedly at one, and then the other, her displeasure mounting- surely one of them would break. Neither did.   “Okay” , she thought, her ire rising,“so this is how it’s going to be.”   Untying the sheath that held Fashav’s dagger, she placed it unceremoniously between the two.  The heaviness of it, hitting the table and resounding through the room- somehow felt heavier in the still and both men flinched.