01-12-2009, 04:24 PM
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His muscles relaxed somewhat when she agreed to let Iskata be; the one-eyed brute was looking out for the blind lady still, even though he continually told himself to give up on her, that she wouldn't recover and she was now beyond hearing. Even the compassion he possessed somewhere within himself that was or could be exposed wouldn't even be enough to shake her out of the spiraling daze of melancholy and depression she'd willingly flung herself into. Iskata didn't want to get better. She couldn't accept all the change that had so suddenly surged into her life, and so... although change had happened to her mentally and physically, she would not change again in its aftermath... not for herself, not for Phoenix Valley, not for Jefferson.
The shoulders of the cyclops sunk a little when the conversation suddenly twisted away and to the origin of his scar. How ironic for her to mention the only one on his face, when his body was littered with the grim wounds from head to foot like some sort of abstract painting gone wrong. Sarcastically, he scoffed a little but released a sigh thereafter, turning to her once more and pointing his good eye in her direction. "Goddamn bears," he said simply. Mother bears and their ignorant defenses over their children. His eye was pained. It shifted away, the humor suddenly lost. "Goddamn bears, popping up everywhere."