Ever since talking to Galileo in the inn, he wasn’t sure how to feel. Part of him was worried about divulging part of himself, while the other grateful. They both had their struggles with discrimination. He told the man the inn, the trial, wasn’t his death. And? He was right. Vio walked out of Voithos with Sorin in tow, just to find the son of the moon by the fire pit. Given his past life and experience, the man was as quiet as the dead. His muscles were careful, calculative, as he slowly neared Galileo.
When he got close enough, he looked over the young healer. “I told you we’d make it. How are you now?” he doubted Galileo was sunshine and rainbows but, far from Romania, he thought he’d be ‘less stressed’.
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