He was silent, listening and watching as the Lorekeeper responded, as Two reacted. I am not a babysitter, she said, and how dare she-? A snarl briefly twitched at his face; he was about to offer to revoke his mercy thus far, instead. Vargas was not normally prone to impulsive action, but the dark thought did cross his mind: how would she react, how badly would it break her--or not at all?--if he killed the child in front of her, then and there, for her refusal? The last vestige of Tamulus' power-?

He took a breath, and exhaled. That was not the correct response. The brief flash of sadistic thought was quickly shoved down; yes, he had to enforce his power, his authority, but no, it needn't be such monstrous overreactions. "You are a babysitter now," was all he said, at last, with a quiet and even finality.

Did Lorekeeper still have a few crackling feathers? Would that bring Two some form of comfort? Perhaps. The important thing was that she would be alive (despite his brief, dark half-urges) and, relatively, safe. And yet, something of her cries, her dripping snot, her reaching out--and he... despite himself, he reached back, and yet by the time he would have touched her she had turned away--it did bite at him.

He was not sure why, or how. He hadn't, certainly, been built for that. Or perhaps his creator had simply never expected The Leviathan, the Overseer, the Master, Vargas, to face the wretched wails of a child, before.

Vargas drew his arm back, setting it down, watching as Two put down her plant, as she slipped into the den. She would be in good hands, for the time being; and so long as Two stayed out of sight until Dhracia had come and gone, she might even be safe, for awhile.

Why did he wish to assure her he'd come back-?

Toxic eyes lingered on the little tree--and a passing thought took note, in his always-responsible way, that he ought to send someone to ensure that it stayed healthy. He hoped, at least, that Lorekeeper thought to keep it watered. And another thought occurred to him, then. A strange one, inspired by the child, inspired by the Lorekeeper who'd stayed hidden for so long--but she was too weak for what he wanted. Not physically, no, but-... He would keep his eyes out.

He would just keep his eyes out, that was all.

Vargas turned away, pacing back for Tunnel P, the journey back feeling oddly... empty, without the child.