Moonspear they treat me like a machine

"My commander, yes," soft laughed spilled from his lips as he played along with his young charge's good humour despite the threat that hung over them; "but don't forget who called you Wanheda before you won the conclave." Dacio shot the girl a smirk, a playful arch of his brow, before he shifted to position himself closer to her and reach out in a rare display of affection. Teeth aimed to preen his ward's silken cheek and, with a refreshed appreciation for the bond they shared. "I missed you."

It was a short exchange, but a meaningful one - an important one. He hoped that, no matter what happened in their uncertain future, Praimfaya would always remember those who maintained their loyalty to her long after their world crumbled.

Talk if Rusalkans would forever rouse ill feeling in his gut, yet Raleska's claim had lessened the bitterness he felt. His hatred had been primarily directed toward the coywolf, and more recently had he been able to understand that some of her followers could be considered guilty by mere association. Her children, for example. Oh, Raleska, came his weighted, pitied thought of the girl, I hope you were right.

He returned his gaze to the face of his youthful companion, and his expression softened. "I can never forget what Rusalka did to Drageda," Dacio shared, and turned his head to look out over the view from his cave. The valley spread out before them for miles, blanketed by the warmth of a dimming sun, and he emitted a gentle sigh. "But I am capable of seeing the world differently, now. I may have taught you how to fight, but you taught me a valuable lesson that helped me realise that, by holding onto the past, the only one I'm punishing is myself. It is one that will stay with me forever."