“He didn’t, did he? Something else did, something else woke him up; something else broke his pact, didn’t it?” Handy led on. Whirlwind was now looking up, ears perked as his eyes passed between Handy and Ashaia. Handy was arguing on behalf of the deer using only the most rudimentary of logic based on partial information of a vast and ancient ritualistic covenant he knew jack shit about. So far, however, he had gotten Ashaia’s attention and seemed to be onto something by sussing that it wasn’t the deer who broke the deal. The only other logical conclusion was that it was the spirit herself who broke it, but accusing her of such was beyond stupid, so he offered an alternative, a way for her to save face. This was a dangerous game he was playing and he knew it, but when the stakes were the possibility of death or an eternity as a glass sculpture, you took the dangerous risk. “Because if it wasn’t you that broke your pact, it had to be something else didn’t it? Therefore, it was nobody’s fault.”