[ It wasn't cowardice. It was superstition. It was madness. It was the wings of the angel of death come to reclaim his title from the both of them. The owl's wings.
All the same, he shakes his head as Goody starts spouting off poetry, the smile slipping from his face as he becomes somber once again. And then arms around him, Goodnight pulling him into a hug that has his own hands sliding up his back and gripping tight to his grey jacket. ]
We had our reasons, Goody. You and I.
[ He had wanted to fight against Bogue as much as the next man. As much as Goodnight did. He could have left any time. ]
... I'm glad you came back. Foolish as it was of you.
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All the same, he shakes his head as Goody starts spouting off poetry, the smile slipping from his face as he becomes somber once again. And then arms around him, Goodnight pulling him into a hug that has his own hands sliding up his back and gripping tight to his grey jacket. ]
We had our reasons, Goody. You and I.
[ He had wanted to fight against Bogue as much as the next man. As much as Goodnight did. He could have left any time. ]
... I'm glad you came back. Foolish as it was of you.