Katerina
I followed him out, still d.umbstruck by him. I walked next to him in silence down the bright hallways, too modern and stark against him, against what I thought he was.
“What are you thinking?” he asked me.
I surprised myself when the truth fell out. “That this packhouse unnerves me more than if we were walking through a cave made of obsidian with barbarians feasting entrails.”
“Poetic,” he mumbled. “Maybe I will have that made into a tapestry.”
I waved my hand around. “You know what I mean.”
“Tell me,”
“I told you before that this was not what I was expecting.”
“Hmm.” I thought the conversation was over until he said, “And you would rather be with the rogue barbarians? Were you seeking your final demise?” he asked, but his words were coated with something almost painful.
