Larksong Grotto Send in the Clowns

He finally spit out something Masquerade could understand, though it took them a moment to parse his words through their pain. They clenched their teeth and breathed harshly, eyes squeezed shut until the wave of agony passed.

Feeling decidedly shaky after the fact, Masque squinted over at him. They knew they’d heard him right, though they didn’t understand how the conversation had gone off the rails so abruptly. Now was not the time to assess that, nor even to seek out Augur.

Why would Masque drag the poor Ulfhedinn—and themself—further into the crossfire if according to Ancelin the only solution was for Avicus to take the rise by force? Would she attempt it, when they carried this message back to her?

Their expression was full of every sort of pain as they raised their eyes to his face one last time. They could feel another wave coming and it would force their hand. They must go. Before they did, their eyes caught his, begging him to reconsider this needless destruction.