Tuktu Weir confessions of a sociopath

he smiles for real then, a broad and wicked thing, fleeting. at trajan's words delight looks away quickly. "there's just always something wrong," he insists, voice stubborn, trying to remember - well, no, he can't really remember where he came from anymore, but that hadn't been the thing wrong, the location. it'd been the events that unfolded after, and it doesn't matter now.

"figures," delight says, eyeing him. why did he even bother asking, again? oh right so he could talk about his own ideas. "we-ell, the pack is founding, so someone's gotta record it," the wisp says, a little too flip to really hide how excited he is about the idea. "it's, um, chronicler i think." he pauses to think about what trajan had said, and hastily adds, "and maybe naturalist or scout for secondary, yeah."