As opinions rained from the other Councillors, and once more from members of the assembled crowd, Nir'wei remained utterly silent with just a small nod back to Doran in acknowledgement, weighing the opinions of the room and pursing his lips at yet more talk of disappointment and disapproval from the behaviours of those gathered. It seemed a recurring theme, from every individual in the room - yet they still defended it, as though some minor tweaks to the formula could somehow miraculously resolve the tensions and the political jabs... even as they themselves thrust forwards with even more.
Linca was the first. At first, he was almost nodding along - after all, the hesitation was understandable, and the concerns had reasonable foundation. Expected, but not insurmountable. Though, his eyebrows rose at some of the language that began to slip, here and there. Foolish. Idealistic. He had to school his expression as best as he could muster to avoid staring a hole through his head as the rattled Councillor spouted about previous accomplishments and even devolved into a personal snipe at his supposed inaction. Well, actual inaction. There wasn't much of a way to hide how that cut him on a personal level, but it was harder still to keep the retort in his mouth and not out on the table. Cool it, a voice whispered sharply in the back of his head. He didn't realise what it meant until he realised he'd been gripping one arm of the chair in a hold so tight it might snap. Damnit. He loved Karem with everything he was, but the power she'd laced into his bones was downright unwieldy when it required constant attention to avoid expending himself on everything he touched.
His attention returned to Linca just as he was finishing his little rant, aimed somehow solely at himself and not even at the person that had suggested it in the first place. He just gave a very small shake of his head, and looked elsewhere. Dismissal. So many things he was ready to say at that moment, but considering all that had already happened and all the things that could, the last thing needed now was an open back-and-forth debate. They'd said their pieces.
More talk. More back-and-forth and compromise. Always the middle ground, always just enough to be not enough that everyone could fall short while secure in the knowledge that none of them could take the whole blame for it.
Then, Brendel stood. Brendel, the focus of Linca's argument. Their 'choice'. He hadn't been around when they'd made that one, as Linca had been so kind to point out as if it was yet another mark against his favour, but Nir'wei could see exactly why, at least. The man handled conversation like enemies on a battlefield; turning to each one and cutting them down in just a few sentences that fell like precise blows. He really did feel bad for Balthazar at that point, facing yet another full assault like that, though it seemed nobody was being let off lightly. A full public dressing-down, this was to be... on top of the various other ones they'd all suffered to varying degrees across the day. By that point, he was just... tired. By the time it rounded back around to them all, and specified on him as well once more just to add a little more insult to injury, he met it head-on and said nothing. Actions speak louder than words. Karem above, how he wanted to yell it back at him. Sit in front of Valtharn and tell me how much fearmongering I'm spouting here. He didn't, though. Not a thing. He wasn't that much of a fool.
Even as the final remarks were carried out in the wake of Brendel's scathing dressing-down, he knew what the response was going to be from this. Well, some small part of himself had hoped that it might have turned a different way for some reason, but it had been the looming expectation regardless - nobody in the room was interested in losing their job. Despite the fact there were concerns about the empty seats and the lacking volunteers to fill them, despite their collective disappointment in each-other and the disappointment from those before them. It felt as if everyone was scrambling for their own little patch of moral high ground from which they could perch and posture to the crowd and at the end say 'but I did well'.
He sighed, and made his vote. How soon do you think it will be, before they're ready to make the first hunt? he asked quietly.
You're thinking too far ahead. The unease in their tone was palpable. I don't know. Hadn't even thought about it. You really want this? There was deep, inherent risk in the thoughts rushing through his head, but nothing would change here. The same resources, the same governance, the same problems, the same... the same worries plagued his head over and over, replaying that day before Faldrun, and Syroa, and Audrae, and Valtharn. Later. Come visit us later. Then the wolves went quiet, their attention on something else far away.
Linca was the first. At first, he was almost nodding along - after all, the hesitation was understandable, and the concerns had reasonable foundation. Expected, but not insurmountable. Though, his eyebrows rose at some of the language that began to slip, here and there. Foolish. Idealistic. He had to school his expression as best as he could muster to avoid staring a hole through his head as the rattled Councillor spouted about previous accomplishments and even devolved into a personal snipe at his supposed inaction. Well, actual inaction. There wasn't much of a way to hide how that cut him on a personal level, but it was harder still to keep the retort in his mouth and not out on the table. Cool it, a voice whispered sharply in the back of his head. He didn't realise what it meant until he realised he'd been gripping one arm of the chair in a hold so tight it might snap. Damnit. He loved Karem with everything he was, but the power she'd laced into his bones was downright unwieldy when it required constant attention to avoid expending himself on everything he touched.
His attention returned to Linca just as he was finishing his little rant, aimed somehow solely at himself and not even at the person that had suggested it in the first place. He just gave a very small shake of his head, and looked elsewhere. Dismissal. So many things he was ready to say at that moment, but considering all that had already happened and all the things that could, the last thing needed now was an open back-and-forth debate. They'd said their pieces.
More talk. More back-and-forth and compromise. Always the middle ground, always just enough to be not enough that everyone could fall short while secure in the knowledge that none of them could take the whole blame for it.
Then, Brendel stood. Brendel, the focus of Linca's argument. Their 'choice'. He hadn't been around when they'd made that one, as Linca had been so kind to point out as if it was yet another mark against his favour, but Nir'wei could see exactly why, at least. The man handled conversation like enemies on a battlefield; turning to each one and cutting them down in just a few sentences that fell like precise blows. He really did feel bad for Balthazar at that point, facing yet another full assault like that, though it seemed nobody was being let off lightly. A full public dressing-down, this was to be... on top of the various other ones they'd all suffered to varying degrees across the day. By that point, he was just... tired. By the time it rounded back around to them all, and specified on him as well once more just to add a little more insult to injury, he met it head-on and said nothing. Actions speak louder than words. Karem above, how he wanted to yell it back at him. Sit in front of Valtharn and tell me how much fearmongering I'm spouting here. He didn't, though. Not a thing. He wasn't that much of a fool.
Even as the final remarks were carried out in the wake of Brendel's scathing dressing-down, he knew what the response was going to be from this. Well, some small part of himself had hoped that it might have turned a different way for some reason, but it had been the looming expectation regardless - nobody in the room was interested in losing their job. Despite the fact there were concerns about the empty seats and the lacking volunteers to fill them, despite their collective disappointment in each-other and the disappointment from those before them. It felt as if everyone was scrambling for their own little patch of moral high ground from which they could perch and posture to the crowd and at the end say 'but I did well'.
He sighed, and made his vote. How soon do you think it will be, before they're ready to make the first hunt? he asked quietly.
You're thinking too far ahead. The unease in their tone was palpable. I don't know. Hadn't even thought about it. You really want this? There was deep, inherent risk in the thoughts rushing through his head, but nothing would change here. The same resources, the same governance, the same problems, the same... the same worries plagued his head over and over, replaying that day before Faldrun, and Syroa, and Audrae, and Valtharn. Later. Come visit us later. Then the wolves went quiet, their attention on something else far away.
