Redtail Rise above me, the sky is a river

Nothing good would come out of it, he said, though even as the words left his mouth, the skin around his eyes tightened with skepticism. She's sort of a parasite.

Iser could be nice sometimes, but for every gesture of altruism there was always this grand show of martyrdom. For someone he had shared so much of his life with -- the Venn diagram of their genetic overlap literally a perfect circle -- she was alien to him, and it was difficult to divine anything from her moodiness.

Redd's your sister? Surprise flickered across his face. There was not much resemblance between them, aside from their cigarette-cherry eyes. He hadn't met Carrion yet, but he noted the strange name.

She's so quiet, he said, somewhat redundantly (but no one ever accused Gavrel of being brilliantly observant, anyways). Everyone here is so quiet. Has it always been like this?

How much of the Rise's history was closed to him because of this reticence? But on the other hand, did such things even matter to him?