There was a particularly sickening sensation that rested upon Fallon's stomach. A knot that twisted and formed and resulted in the iron lump clumping in her throat. Her fingers gingerly reached out to grab upon the corner, curling it in her thumb and forefinger. Once, twice, thrice, there was an exhale when she continued to read it. For a moment there was a pause, another, sharper inhale.
No. I must have read it wrong. It must be a trick, The other hand pinched her brow and so she forced herself to look back down onto the notice. She had grabbed it and ripped it from the wall the moment she had seen the word repercussion. Of course, there was a few protested shouts at her, but nothing more than a glare was offered in return. With that she slunk across the way to a more quiet spot, daring to not yet return to her office and her fingers ever tentatively drumming upon the hilt of her kukri.
To say she suddenly felt seriously unarmed was an understatement. Not that she could exactly bring herself to fight either.
She persevered with her reading, taking a perch upon the fountain edge. Her brow furrowed, her lips twitching to the words. The beginning had been ominous enough as it was, and as she slowly begun to read through it did the chill travel down her spine. For a moment her eyes glanced upwards, flickering across the sky. She heard the confused sound of birds, the squawking and cries of things that should have moved on. She felt the air that refused to chill, the hanging damp that dared not step into the realm of winter.
"Shyke," she managed to hiss. The inspector pinched her brow. If it was not the city fighting amongst itself, the demands of the military then it was gods and their little games. She felt the Lykata upon the back of her hand nervously twitch, another deep inhale as she attempted to establish some kind of calm. How many Vantha did she know? What did she know of them? She knew them well enough, their friendly personalities and their attitudes whenever she and her mentor had ventured to Avanthal. But that was years ago, and while the basic principles still clung to her she felt their language grow heavy on her tongue.
It grated against her. Yet she remembered as she left where the sign once was, she could see the growing of hungry eyes and lips thirsting for gold. It was something she was beginning to see now as an easy tempter. It was the same feeling she got from when she fled Sunberth with the Scars. That baying for blood and running on pure instinct. The woman released another hiss, this time wordless but a symbol of the bubbling annoyance.
There had to be a reason for this. A reason for why Morwen had chosen to not come out. Everything had a reason. Her gaze gave another tentative glance down to her gloved hand, her lip twitching. Yes, she understood the danger of such when pointed out to her. Of the harm it would cause on a large global scale. But what could be of so much value to this Goddess to prevent her from engaging in an age old tradition. She wanted to understand, she needed to understand to create the bigger picture and work upon it. Then? Who knew what would happen or she would decide upon.
"Petching Hai, Eyris," She managed to finally peel her hand way from her brow then. Her chin tilted upwards, her words more in general than to anyone in particular, "You taught me wisdom, knowledge... but this... is it madness? Is there something I am missing? Something none of us know about? There is. I know there is. But..." Her fingers crumpled around the missive. Her voice dropped into a whisper, "I need to do something. Correct it. Somehow. Just... not like this."