"Death isn't pretty? As a death cleric, I'll try not to be fussed for that one." He's joking, his tone light and his smile small. Death isn't pretty...but it also isn't ugly, it simply is and always would be.
He holds out a magically warmed hand for her to take, an offer to come sit with him as she wanted.
"Yeah, I flew. It's a bit of an effort for the height and how rough the wind blows, but it's worth it. Come sit a spell...watch the ants go about their programmed lives, most without a thought to spare about how shitty everything is."
Whether she joins him or not, once she's settled as she liked, he opens his bottle to take a good, long, swig off of it. "Want any? Not my best Brandy, but it's smooth enough for the drinking and effective enough for the mood."
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He holds out a magically warmed hand for her to take, an offer to come sit with him as she wanted.
"Yeah, I flew. It's a bit of an effort for the height and how rough the wind blows, but it's worth it. Come sit a spell...watch the ants go about their programmed lives, most without a thought to spare about how shitty everything is."
Whether she joins him or not, once she's settled as she liked, he opens his bottle to take a good, long, swig off of it. "Want any? Not my best Brandy, but it's smooth enough for the drinking and effective enough for the mood."