Lothoro started out with a smirk and nod as if he was agreeing with her despite the bemused glimmer of stone set in his eyes that burned like embers of a fire.
But her words now made him laugh in turn. It was dry and cynical and sounded like sand grating against glass. "Family." The word was so brazenly twisted with irony on his tongue as he nearly spit it out. Only the lite clench of his fist which quickly unfurled told of the significance of the deep wounds that lay buried. They had all been hurt. Badly. But he had taken it personally. And had personally held them all responsible for their failures.
"Family." The laugh changed into a dark chuckle. He needn't remind her that he had killed the closest of his. They had all failed in his eyes.
"There is no honor in murder." Cynical and misthropic. "So there might as well be a price." Duality dotted his words like poetry. He understood them perfectly. With a scoff he huffed at her, attitude dripping through him like his anger.
"Might you not wonder as to why a price has been placed on your head?" He did not know. "And, if I might add, such a high proof of your death?"
He walked paces away, eying the box the he had seen with what looked like passing interest. "Clearly," He said looking back at her over his shoulder with a smirk before his eyes brushed across the room, "you have angered someone or something quite deeply."
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2011-08-18 12:43 am (UTC)But her words now made him laugh in turn. It was dry and cynical and sounded like sand grating against glass. "Family." The word was so brazenly twisted with irony on his tongue as he nearly spit it out. Only the lite clench of his fist which quickly unfurled told of the significance of the deep wounds that lay buried. They had all been hurt. Badly. But he had taken it personally. And had personally held them all responsible for their failures.
"Family." The laugh changed into a dark chuckle. He needn't remind her that he had killed the closest of his. They had all failed in his eyes.
"There is no honor in murder." Cynical and misthropic. "So there might as well be a price." Duality dotted his words like poetry. He understood them perfectly. With a scoff he huffed at her, attitude dripping through him like his anger.
"Might you not wonder as to why a price has been placed on your head?" He did not know. "And, if I might add, such a high proof of your death?"
He walked paces away, eying the box the he had seen with what looked like passing interest. "Clearly," He said looking back at her over his shoulder with a smirk before his eyes brushed across the room, "you have angered someone or something quite deeply."