Hearing about the details of Kuvie's hidden journey, Reazue began connecting the dots. The times her behavior would be filled with an anxious rush, or times when she seemed a little too ill.
Worries that caused her expression to wilt and darken, marring her face with bags under her eyes and a dreadful light in her eyes.
'No wonder she vanished for a while…'
However, the tone of Kuvie's stories changed the moment she spoke of an angel's fall. It felt as if the melody of her storytelling shifted from desperation and anxiety to fanaticism.
There was awe in her tone.
But it was subtle—had Reazue not been friends with her for more than a century, he wouldn't have perceived it. Especially now, when he gained a little more context regarding her life.
Eventually, the Werebat and the Satyress ran out of time. The deep, engulfing darkness receded, making room for the soft haze of the underground torchlight to return.
Reazue's eyes took a moment to adjust before he let out a sigh.
