Irina bent her head sympathetically. “I’m sorry. That seems like a struggle.” She found she could relate to at least the part about Alistair’s daughter Firefly-she was beginning to think Pyro had disappeared and she hadn’t noticed. Irina’s cloud came back, drizzling lightly on her with her mood. “If it makes you feel better, I can watch and listen for any news of your son this world may have. What’s the name of your son?” she asked. Irina slid a petal forward with her paw. She waited for Alistair’s response, then mulled it over while she spoke.
“You know . . . it feels dead around here. Hawthorne will announce war any day, I’m sure, but we’re so small we don’t stand much chance unless we fight directly with Tarben. It might liven things up, but surely some will die-” She stopped when she realized just what she was saying. “It’s nothing. Everything’s fine, don’t worry-” It was so unlike Irina to get flustered, she found her control on the cloud faltering. It boomed and unleashed a torrent of rain, thoroughly soaking her. “Now I’ve done it,” she sighed, glancing up at Alistair. “Beartooth will have my head.”
"The truth takes time." Pyro, Kruam, & Kára - Nadia
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