Her son. The child, rescued from the volcano in Ke-Waihu.
A frown draws across Anduin's brows and he opens his eyes to peer up into the pale grey sky above them. Thoughts swimming around his head as he does, none of them particularly pleasant.
"I wonder if they are still together," he says, at last. "The child and the White Wanderer. It did not seem as though the boy was particularly pleased with his 'friend', toward the end of our stay there."
Anduin cannot say that he is particularly pleased himself. Perhaps the man did rescue the child from the volcano. But -- there is no denying that he was using him. To what purposes, he cannot say for certain, but it was clear to Anduin that his motives were not selfless where the boy was concerned.
no subject
A frown draws across Anduin's brows and he opens his eyes to peer up into the pale grey sky above them. Thoughts swimming around his head as he does, none of them particularly pleasant.
"I wonder if they are still together," he says, at last. "The child and the White Wanderer. It did not seem as though the boy was particularly pleased with his 'friend', toward the end of our stay there."
Anduin cannot say that he is particularly pleased himself. Perhaps the man did rescue the child from the volcano. But -- there is no denying that he was using him. To what purposes, he cannot say for certain, but it was clear to Anduin that his motives were not selfless where the boy was concerned.