The story starts off regular enough, and Guts briefly slips under the table to find the peach pit that had gotten lost somewhere next to the table leg opposite to him.
He misses a word or two, but starts to pick up again around the reminder of all their mortal fates. With a thunk from his head hitting the bottom of the table, he stands up straight with indignation. Too thick-skulled to be bothered by the wood, it seems.
“What the hell are you goin’ on about?” He sounds annoyed - partially at all the vague, flowery language and partly from not getting the whole story.
There is way too much admiration of the thing for it to seem like it happened by accident. The only people he heard talk like that were fanatics - either of the Holy See or some other cultish thing. He happened to be a fan of neither, and stayed well clear of them.
no subject
He misses a word or two, but starts to pick up again around the reminder of all their mortal fates. With a thunk from his head hitting the bottom of the table, he stands up straight with indignation. Too thick-skulled to be bothered by the wood, it seems.
“What the hell are you goin’ on about?” He sounds annoyed - partially at all the vague, flowery language and partly from not getting the whole story.
There is way too much admiration of the thing for it to seem like it happened by accident. The only people he heard talk like that were fanatics - either of the Holy See or some other cultish thing. He happened to be a fan of neither, and stayed well clear of them.
“It’s creepy.” he reminds her, emphatically.