"We're not talking about here though. We're talking about your world. Did the dead walk again in your home?"
Dun scoffs a little at the thought; stuff and nonsense. True there were stories of men wondering in the spiritual realms and returning, but that's all they were: stories. He fills out the head of the dummy and starts on the arms and legs, packing all the stuffing in tight. For a moment his hand rests inside the doll, as a bloody memory rears its ugly head. Him, pressing the bloody wound on one of his men, trying to staunch the bleeding only to watch the man choke, gasp and splutter his last remaining breaths.
He withdraws his hand and grabs another handful of material, shoving it fiercely into the dummy and shoving the memory out of his mind. The dead don't come back in his world, even if they came back here. It's almost unfair, he bitterly muses to himself. The dying man...no, more of a dying boy, really. Now that he stops to think about it, the lad couldn't have been older than Kengo. Both youths, but one lived while the other died. Some would call it fate, but Dun refused to simply place the blame on something as intangible as fate. He just hadn't been as strong or as wise a general as he should've been.
At that moment, he's aware that Kengo's saying something. He manages to drag himself back in time to catch the confession, and it's a troubling one indeed. He frowns and ponders on this, voicing out his thoughts to Kengo.
"I don't trust him, but I'm an old general, it's part of my job description to look everyone new sideways and wonder if they've got a knife hidden in their sleeves. This...Ryusei came with you here. You seemed to trust him to follow you into what might've been dangerous territory. But you're saying that you can't trust him. Why?"
no subject
Dun scoffs a little at the thought; stuff and nonsense. True there were stories of men wondering in the spiritual realms and returning, but that's all they were: stories. He fills out the head of the dummy and starts on the arms and legs, packing all the stuffing in tight. For a moment his hand rests inside the doll, as a bloody memory rears its ugly head. Him, pressing the bloody wound on one of his men, trying to staunch the bleeding only to watch the man choke, gasp and splutter his last remaining breaths.
He withdraws his hand and grabs another handful of material, shoving it fiercely into the dummy and shoving the memory out of his mind. The dead don't come back in his world, even if they came back here. It's almost unfair, he bitterly muses to himself. The dying man...no, more of a dying boy, really. Now that he stops to think about it, the lad couldn't have been older than Kengo. Both youths, but one lived while the other died. Some would call it fate, but Dun refused to simply place the blame on something as intangible as fate. He just hadn't been as strong or as wise a general as he should've been.
At that moment, he's aware that Kengo's saying something. He manages to drag himself back in time to catch the confession, and it's a troubling one indeed. He frowns and ponders on this, voicing out his thoughts to Kengo.
"I don't trust him, but I'm an old general, it's part of my job description to look everyone new sideways and wonder if they've got a knife hidden in their sleeves. This...Ryusei came with you here. You seemed to trust him to follow you into what might've been dangerous territory. But you're saying that you can't trust him. Why?"