( More death, more destruction, more brushes with inevitable reminders of his fragile flesh and its failures. He watches the man dispose of yet another foul, distasteful creature and basks in the pained reminder that all evil is for the better, and perhaps they benefit from abandoning Alem: they could never possibly hope to cleanse all this gut and blood from the tapestries.

In the end, he spares Licyn a compassionate smile, an awkward, stiff but well-intended pat on his shoulders. There, there. Now, don't spread the love of your stains. )

Have no worry. We'll take any rat that's crawled off our ship. Only... humane. And besides, you seem to have your uses. Smile more, and we might even keep you.

( A pause, then: ) But your women. Emilia and Caitlyn. They can't stay long with us. You make sure they're gone within the sennight. Attaboy.