Lion Head Mesa glory & garbling

If the gods will not assist you, take it for yourself, Machi replied quietly. His eyes remained downcast, guilt setting in for denying what he knew the Captian wished—a heavy, bitter feeling that would certainly undo his resolve should their eyes meet.

Tension, whether real or imagined, stayed his tongue for a long moment, until he could bear it no longer and stood, clearing his throat. Perhaps your beloved might assist in soothing your frustration, he stated, although his tone was devoid of malice, instead holding something more akin to explanation.

I should take my leave. He bowed politely, and took a step toward the entrance. There he paused, searching for some final thing to say, and finding nothing suitable.