[ He has his reasons to keep away, is what Verso keeps telling himself. Things are always easier when he doesn't involve himself in the Expeditions directly: sometimes his hand is forced, sometimes he makes poor decisions, but almost always it's better this way. He and Renoir may disagree on almost everything, now, but the lesson they'd both learned about keeping secrets from the Expedition was hard-earned, and not on he'll forget any time soon.
He would've approached eventually. At the right moment, when they're further through the Continent, or when something else forces his hand, when Renoir finds them again. He'd made Gustave that promise, whether or not he remembers it -- and at the end of the day, selfishly, he does just want to see him again, if only for a while. But not yet. Not now.
He just didn't account for Esquie.
Verso watches from somewhere up among the towering cliffs and caves that surround Esquie's Nest, a small smile on his lips when he sees him apologize fervently to that gestral, again -- one small moment of relief in the midst of all this. He isn't expecting for Gustave to start climbing.
Merde. The man is more determined than he expected. It'd still be difficult to find him up here, but -- it's a smaller space, harder to navigate quickly, full of too many drops and dangerous falls. But maybe he's just here to get a look around, to get a good vantage point. Maybe he's just exploring. Scouting ahead.
Verso keeps winding his way up, slipping into the shadows, knows so much of the Continent like the back of his own hand. Staying just out of sight, watching warily, carefully and maybe just a little fondly as Gustave finds handhold after handhold, determination set in his grip. ]
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He would've approached eventually. At the right moment, when they're further through the Continent, or when something else forces his hand, when Renoir finds them again. He'd made Gustave that promise, whether or not he remembers it -- and at the end of the day, selfishly, he does just want to see him again, if only for a while. But not yet. Not now.
He just didn't account for Esquie.
Verso watches from somewhere up among the towering cliffs and caves that surround Esquie's Nest, a small smile on his lips when he sees him apologize fervently to that gestral, again -- one small moment of relief in the midst of all this. He isn't expecting for Gustave to start climbing.
Merde. The man is more determined than he expected. It'd still be difficult to find him up here, but -- it's a smaller space, harder to navigate quickly, full of too many drops and dangerous falls. But maybe he's just here to get a look around, to get a good vantage point. Maybe he's just exploring. Scouting ahead.
Verso keeps winding his way up, slipping into the shadows, knows so much of the Continent like the back of his own hand. Staying just out of sight, watching warily, carefully and maybe just a little fondly as Gustave finds handhold after handhold, determination set in his grip. ]