[ There's an unexpected force to Gildor's words, a tremulous anger that at least gives Rust pause. He hangs on—by his fingertips, it feels like—for those last impressions of grit and heat, then reaches to take the bead. Breathes out, eases the mental pressure. ] (But you are a witness.) [ More than a word to him—a duty, a debt. ]
(A conduit.) [ Something like envy, something like understanding once-removed. His turn to rub the bead in his fingers, review what he knows. ] (You make anything of it? Storage.)
no subject
( A conduit. ) [ Something like envy, something like understanding once-removed. His turn to rub the bead in his fingers, review what he knows. ] ( You make anything of it? Storage. )