"Written decently. But why?"
"Care to elaborate, I'm not fond of backward riddles.'
"Igna, focus."
"I am focused," came abruptly, "-as focused as I can be. Listen, Minerva, when you asked why my answer is thus, there's no why. I did it because I wanted."
"Pardon?"
"You asked about why I did what I did, why I intervened, or why there's someone of my realm resident in Orin, the answer is simple, there is no reason," a flick of the shoulder gestured, Minerva curled her fist and walked, "-I'm going to regret this," she muffled and asked, "-what were you doing?"
"Observation," came an uninterested response. In his tone laid nothing – the vacant gaze and strained customary smile, same motions of expression, same answers, and a particularly stagnant atmosphere. She took one large step and leaned into the telescope. Igna, being the gentleman he is, shuffled, allowing for her chance at observation.
