Wolffe had stepped outside not that long ago. He just needed a break from the crowd and pompousness that came with a gathering like this. He had never been good at those kinds of things. Luckily he hadn’t been forced to attend many during the war.
Sighing, Wolffe rubbed at his face, massaging at the scar that cut through his eye. It ached sometime. Leaning against a railing, he looked around the courtyard, only to have his attention drawn to a familiar Kel Dor that had joined him outside. It made his heart hurt, flashbacks of seeing his General’s ship go down, the stabbing pain in his head as the broken chip in his brain tried to activate.
As much as he wanted the Kel Dor to be Plo he knew that was impossible. They were dead. And even if they had been brought back, they’d certainly stay as far away from Wolffe and his brothers as they could. No. This was either another Kel Dor that looked like Plo, or the damage to Wolffe’s head was finally causing him to see things.
@generalbuir
