Camille's emotionshare takes on a fretful bent. Something protective. Angry.
Exhausted.]
...I'm sorry.
[She'll reach up to push a stray hair from his forehead. Heart sinking. As with Cazador before, he's been made to bleed and bow. Made into a sacrifice in the name of something worthless.]
no subject
Camille's emotionshare takes on a fretful bent. Something protective. Angry.
Exhausted.]
...I'm sorry.
[She'll reach up to push a stray hair from his forehead. Heart sinking. As with Cazador before, he's been made to bleed and bow. Made into a sacrifice in the name of something worthless.]
You're no one's puppet, Astarion.