[The pain imbued in every word, the self-realized horror Algric describes... It's a nice hot bowl of soup on a cold day for him. His eyes are bright while Algric pours the words out, mouth hanging open for the first part before closing and lips pressed tightly together by the end. The image of the cold, uncaring waters like the nicest drink on his throat.

Jon takes a deep breath. Coming back to himself, the green fading as he keeps watching Algric's face. But there isnt any joy or satisfaction in his expression, not like usual from a small ...brunch? Would that be this?

He's more sorry than anything.]

I... i had no idea at the time...