'A Harvester.' A chill ran down his spine when the sisters revealed what the deo'lei were apparently gathering for. Morgan had only heard of such a being from soldier campfire myths. But that's what the sniffer had assumed that's all they were - myths.
'Glad we aren't going to be anywhere near that thi--' It took all that Morgan could muster in his tired state not to go slackjawed behind his mask as his other temporary allies began asking more questions about the creature, particularly because they were
interested in such a thing.
'Are they mad?! Who would purposefully even seek out such a creature?!'However, there was another aspect of the conversation that was troubling Morgan - the actual possibility if he stuck with these two, he would somehow end up recruited by the deo'lei. His inner beast strained at its mental shackles at the thought.
'Those years with the army... No, never. Never again.' Morgan wasn't about to relinquish his freedom, not again. Not after he had spent all that time running from the Seclryian Army and was now being somehow trapped into this "deal."
'These two have no idea what being in an... "organization" is like. Idiots!' The inner beast growled, threatening to say something that Morgan would have regretted, but the Sisters mentioned something that Morgan's sniffer side desired - a library. And not just any library,
'Information that isn't available to the public. Perhaps, the cure?' Morgan rubbed his tongue against his throat ripping fangs, careful not to cut his own flesh.
If there was one thing that he hated more than an army, it was his curse. Or rather, his other curse. It was bad enough being a sniffer, constantly absorbing others' thoughts and feelings, but to couple it with the constant want for blood and the ever ongoing battle with the beast within - he was tired.
Morgan leaned back into the chair he had managed to find, fully aware of the weight that the day had brought him.
'Should have just looked the other cursed way and minded my own business.' The sniffer thought bitterly. All of this was conflicting - he wanted to be free, but at what cost? His sanity, his morals, his life? The Fixer wouldn't rest - that much was made clear. And by the sound of it, there would be no hiding. There would be no avoiding insulting the Sisters if he flat out refused, and there would be no way to avoid raising suspicions as a threat amongst Ixion and I'on. In truth, there was only one option, and Morgan hated it, speaking in his monotone voice.
"We go to Fokon then. If there truly is a threat of a harvester, not to mention the revenge of the Fixer, I suppose--" Morgan would sigh heavily,
"That is the only place for us to go. I, for one, don't want to be anywhere near the Harvester if it is close as you say."