[Why wouldn’t they? Thought dismissed with a forceful blink. She’s not eager to slide the answer across the figurative table, either—but there’s no godforesaken point in lying.]
I’m the Commander of a growing city. Piltover. [A beat.] “City of Progress.”
[There’s some dryness to the quote, but her thoughts are churning elsewhere. Conceivably, any nation in Runeterra might take a political prisoner—yet nowhere, to Caitlyn’s awareness, with anyone called Eldians. If the man doesn’t recognize the name she’s offered, either, then…]
no subject
[Why wouldn’t they? Thought dismissed with a forceful blink. She’s not eager to slide the answer across the figurative table, either—but there’s no godforesaken point in lying.]
I’m the Commander of a growing city. Piltover. [A beat.] “City of Progress.”
[There’s some dryness to the quote, but her thoughts are churning elsewhere. Conceivably, any nation in Runeterra might take a political prisoner—yet nowhere, to Caitlyn’s awareness, with anyone called Eldians. If the man doesn’t recognize the name she’s offered, either, then…]