As he takes in everything that this man is saying, Irahl's shoulders sink--both in relief and under the sheer weight of what he's hearing. It's everything that he has always wished he could hear from his superiors back home, and is so much more akin to those who he had actually made the decision to follow. It meshes perfectly with his goals and vendettas, at least on paper.
And that is often enough for Irahl.
In that moment of processing and deliberation, he can't help but idly note that he now sees the point where the twins overlap. While he would never call either brother 'gregarious,' there's still a distinct sense of humanity that he has sensed in both of them. It's something that he feels he himself lacks, but he can't help but distantly admire it in others.
So, when Irahl shrugs his gear bag higher on his shoulder from where it had begun to slide, he's standing a little taller and straighter.
As he puts together his answer, he busies with one sleeve, rolling it back and pushing down the cuff of the glove on that hand, until the underside of his wrist is exposed.
"Don't know if the slayers have made it this far out. Maybe in the old texts somewhere. Sometimes their insignia ends up on the gear of hunters and special operative units. But only those who have joined for life carry the mark themselves."
The brand is a little blurred and faded with how many years had passed since it'd been given, but it's still visible.
"I've already given my vow to the cause. I want to get back to work. Give me the room for it, point me in the right direction, and I will give excellence."
no subject
And that is often enough for Irahl.
In that moment of processing and deliberation, he can't help but idly note that he now sees the point where the twins overlap. While he would never call either brother 'gregarious,' there's still a distinct sense of humanity that he has sensed in both of them. It's something that he feels he himself lacks, but he can't help but distantly admire it in others.
So, when Irahl shrugs his gear bag higher on his shoulder from where it had begun to slide, he's standing a little taller and straighter.
As he puts together his answer, he busies with one sleeve, rolling it back and pushing down the cuff of the glove on that hand, until the underside of his wrist is exposed.
"Don't know if the slayers have made it this far out. Maybe in the old texts somewhere. Sometimes their insignia ends up on the gear of hunters and special operative units. But only those who have joined for life carry the mark themselves."
The brand is a little blurred and faded with how many years had passed since it'd been given, but it's still visible.
"I've already given my vow to the cause. I want to get back to work. Give me the room for it, point me in the right direction, and I will give excellence."