Day 10, Week 1 - The Step One before the Step One

[Corporal Light]

Both SPB and Ballad made a mental note: Never, ever, mumble to yourself while other people are nearby. Doesn't matter if they were your worst enemy or your closest friend; if people are nearby, don't be quiet.

Given what he had done, however, it should've been no surprise that his fellow traveler would listen in on him, walking like a hungover drunkard towards the place they had entered before ranting all quiet-like. He cursed himself for being so foolish. Why hadn't it occurred to him that plotting so overtly would attract attention he didn't desire?

It was a question for another time. He immediately whirled around, his eyes switching from yellow to solid white. His first thought was to tell him it was none of his business, but he quickly dismissed it as soon as he saw what had become of Koal. His eyes had turned a demonic crimson, just like the last time. His fangs were visible behind his snarl, even from the short walking distance that separated the two. Smoke billowed out from the holes of his coat as he felt the cold metal of his single shot steadily slide into his palm. The two held their staring contest, both daring the other to make their first move.

The idea to remove the desperado's life where he stood made him consider whipping out his single shot at that moment, without any regard for what his acquaintance would say about it. He rationalized that it was for a practical purpose, and not insanity or rage that motivated it. The last thing he wanted was to have someone discover what it was he planned to do way before he had the resources, manpower, and or time needed to see it accomplished. As the thought ran through his mind, he felt more gaseous vapor escape from his nostrils, slipping through the crimson fabric of his scarf. But his more logical side started talking to him. Whispering another viewpoint to him. Another idea. A far better idea.

The smoke dissipated around the same time his "friend" had calmed down, sitting down next to the fire he had created. As he apologized, the gunsmith kept his deadly glare transfixed on Koal, walking forward in a threatening manner. His eyes remained snow white, looking down towards Lynch like a king would look down towards a lowly servant. As he finished talking, he crossed his arms, staring at his acquaintance.

Back home, it was easy to tell how one was feeling by looking at their eyes. "Eyes were the windows to the soul," indeed. The statement held true for all beings, even the monstrous ones and the ones with no soul whatsoever. When Lynch peered up at Ballad, he instantly noticed what he could only describe as this: His companion was a scared child, or, at least, looked like one. He obviously did not want to get on his bad side. Either because he didn't want the gunner to kill him or leave him to die in the snow, or due to a genuine sense of friendship was something he could not figure out. SPB had a theory, though. Koal was obviously in no position to make demands of him, looking ill and in need of rest. So whatever demands he could make were ultimately meaningless. Therefore, they were in full position to basically not say anything to them.

Of course, he reasoned, that would be a horrible idea in the long run.

He had spent a long time on studying human emotions, and even though he still had no clue how they worked or why they were a thing to begin with, he knew what could cause them. He knew what could cause people to get angry, to be sad, to be a lot of things. He had analyzed Lynch's words and body language as best as he could, and his summation was as simple as breathing. Aside from irritability caused by fatigue, his killing of the Archdemon of Despair, as well as his quest in the Ashen Plains, also could have caused him emotional turmoil. Without direct confirmation or a tap into his memories, however, it would be impossible to figure out.

So he decided to best course of action was not to kill him but befriend him. Make him believe he was indeed a helpful man, fighting for a peaceful cause. Once he revealed his problems, then he would be open to whatever it was the soldier wished for.

The gunsmith smiled, his eyes reverting back to a traditional bisque, glowing color. He calmly strolled to the other side of the campfire, sitting down in front of it. Lynch gazed at him, raising his head off of the floor, turning his head away as if preparing for the inevitable breakdown.

Instead, he spoke eloquently and without malice.

"Koal... your spirit... fellow kindred spirit... what befell him? How long has he inhabited your mind? Inform me of that, and I will inform you of myself." He whispered.