Neverwinter Forest Water from your broken iris fell toward the floor

She might have complete faith, Mal had zero. Donovan was a monster. End of story. A flock of gnats was worth more than the striped creature's word. And do you think he told his minions that? Sure didn't seem like it if they're trying to cause trouble with everyone they meet. And what about everyone else I know? What about them being safe? He isn't some normal person who'll act in the spirit of a promise -- again, kidnapper, rapist, keeps a pile of freaks around that want to chew on strangers. Maybe he's so damn obsessed with you he really isn't a danger just to you, but he is to all of us. I don't know how you can't see that. Brainwashed.

But then, there was a crack -- a small piece of the Simmik he knew shining through. Of course it was through sadness -- Neverwinter was far more familiar with that emotion as of late -- but she was still there, and that was the important part. Somehow, sadness brought hope sometimes, apparently. He stayed where he was but leaned forward slightly, trying to offer her a smile if he could manage. It was Simmik -- he at least wanted to be happy she was safe. It doesn't have to be. You can stay here -- you should stay. You always have a place with me. Because Mal was not willing to just brush her off, to suddenly lock her out of her life. Mal was a far better wolf than Donovan -- did he need to prove it? It should be obvious. He knew Simmik was good, he hoped that she could see that, that whatever corruption that Donovan had started trying to to fool her with wasn't her path. There were better things out there. She had to see that.