[ Finally, he draws his gaze upwards, expression wrought with concern. ]
Can we not set aside our differences for one meager moment? Will you not even humour me, and at least attempt to consume something out of what I have made for you? I never see you leave to scavenge, or eat at all… I worry about you, Vyrthur.
Then nurse your worries elsewhere. Sustain yourself with what you've made. What good is it to nourish heresy?















