Pope's daemon rarely speaks either. When she does it's a hiss, it's to get the others in line. Pope barely seems to know she can talk. Perhaps, then, he views Sila's withdrawal as natural. It's a sign Carver is becoming the sort of leader he can really be.

"Good girl," Pope says brusquely, and then takes a sip. It's strong and it's homemade and it's awful but it's booze and they fucking earned it.

"You're going to get some rest," he tells Carver. "You and the boys you brought out with you. And then when you wake up there's going to be food. A real feast. Like we haven't had in months. And it's all thanks to you. Your call was right. How's that feel, son?"