Adyr's words turned the hush into a ripple of released breaths. Shoulders eased, and more than a few eyes softened with reluctant approval, weighing him as a principled Astra-path Practitioner who knew when to hold a blade and when to sheath it.
Watching the faces soften, their judgment amused Adyr.
It was like a flock of sheep entrusting their safety to a well-fed sheepdog, feeling safe at its side, yet not knowing what would happen if it ever went hungry.
With a thought, he recalled the White Shroud to his Sanctuary, felt the air close where it had hung, and turned back to the problem that mattered: finding a way out of this cage.
He let his attention settle on the bars, the floor, and the faint harmonics of vibration still lingering in the gold, then began constructing his next solution.
