Silver Moraine i am a result

blackfell snorts. “then you must be blind, sister. you have not changed a bit.”

but that isn't all true, is it? they have all changed, shaped by time and circumstance, by the worlds they had chosen—or been forced—to make for themselves. but he looks her over, taking her in as if trying to memorize her all over again. he laughs at her comment, a sound coming from his belly. “you have always been funny, sister. i was sure i’d find you dead in a ditch by now.”

he does not have to say he is glad to see her standing before him. she has always known how to read between his words. he tilts his head, studying her one last time before he exhales through his nose, as if resigning himself to something inevitable.

“come, then." an arm tossed around her shoulder. "if you are still standing, you might as well tell me what the hell you’ve been doing with yourself.”