Gilroy seemed to wither and shrivel under the heat of the Burned Man’s gaze. In many ways he was relieved. There was a comfort in being titleless worm again. However, as Cross said, that didn’t divorce him from responsibility. Alice ought to be directing the clan. This Longstreet should be directing the faith. And yet… Cross still looked to him for leadership. Needed him. The vermin haunt squirmed. Unsure whether he felt resigned or empowered by Robert’s trust.
“Alright,” he said finally “I’ll need to be acknowledged first.” With Hart staked that wouldn’t be happening in the Deep Kingdom but that couldn’t be helped. Kenneth slowly scuttled towards one of the benches “However, unless you’ve taken over as Priscus that might have to wait for another night.”
Kenneth folded in on himself as he sat and turned to look at Robert. The way water reflected firelight made the eyes looks eerily inviting and repulsive. A spider’s eyes, wordlessly inviting you to sit in its web. While friendly not even the Caldarium could erase the Nosferatu’s curse.
“Is there anything more you can tell me?” The Burned Man had explained the internal political threats. There were still external to go over. “When I… left the Domain there were hunters wielding advanced science threatening and the Circle had just been attacked. Is that still accurate?”