Ro smiled at his wife, the hand in her hair shifting so stroke a thumb along her cheekbone in both reassurance and ... well, just to touch her. Unseen, green stars wound around crimson flame -- a reminder of the blank, unreadable wall that could shield her like nothing else could.
“Well,” he said calmly. “It's a start, we know to look, and relatively where. Thats the furthest along we've been since any of this happened. Someone, in their infinite wisdom, decided that Valin should live – so someone must have known exactly what happened to Anaya and where she is.”
It was apparent who he was referring to. Large and stoic, golden-eyed with a frustratingly shut mouth.
“Maybe he's waiting for a direct question? Or maybe he's just doing the best he can with what little he is aloud to do.”
A quiet snort betrayed the S'Hean's inner frustration and he started work on the brandy Marius had so thoughtfully dropped off on his way by.
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