In many ways, the sight of her was the thin blue shore that a dying creature sees from afar, when he is able to lift his head from the drowning waters, the sight of which he clings to with all of his waning life and dying hope. She spoke softly, unsure of what the Dark God had planned for her golden life, but Lecter could see that she had not yet lost her faith, while he himself tottered like a newborn cub on the thin tripwire of rejection and redemption.
The nestle of her porcelain muzzle into the blood-stiff hairs beneath his own broke him from his reverie; he listened intently, as if in this moment, Jinx was the mentor, and he an eager pupil. And yet the seed of doubt had take firm hold in the thankless earth of his mind; how could He, who had forced Lecter away from hearth and home, taken Clarice, driven out Valkari? how could He not have already forsaken the man who had pledged his all? who would follow the Black Lord to the very ends of the earth if it was requested of him?
Perhaps the madman had done something to anger Sos, but Lecter did not voice this, for to put such a thought into words seemed to imply that Jinx also had committed such a crime against her God, which was simply improbable. She had always been filled with the zeal and passion befitting one given to the gods at a young age; Lecter would be damned if he took that from her now. A heavy sigh racked him, and he leant into her touch but for a moment, taking a desperate sort of solace in the mesh of their fur.
I left Shearwater Bay; He drew me away for Himself, and it was as if mere moments had passed. But when I tried to return, it was not as I remembered. It was nothingness. He had gone into the mountains to seek out communion with his God, and found, when the haze of poppies and herbs had cleared from his vision, and he was strong enough to move from his besotted dreams and the constant murmuring of Sos, that he did not know where he was. Shearwater Bay, Koios, Nanuq, Clarice — all of it was a distant reality, a mirage to which he could not return. And so he had pressed on, and found himself here. He took everything from me, and gave me emptiness and the absence of His face in return. The madman's voice was edged in a brief, confused anger, a vague inkling of rage that had yet to spawn within the recesses of his spirit, and he looked upon Jinx questioningly, but silence had closed his lips once more. What was she to make of all this, her teacher bereft of their beloved Dark One, her homeland gone? what must she be thinking in this moment.