He gets it now, a little. Her, and the sneaking, the scavenging, the woodchips around her campsite. When the world collapses around you like that, either you survive or you don't. There's no going halfway.
He watches the fire for a few, quiet moments, apparently pensive. And then, while he chews on what's left of said stringy bits of pineapple: "Sounds like a great bloody pile of shit."
Frank, flat, and blunt. Because that's part of it too, this ritual he learned at Ostagar, and refined in the Order: commiseration and bombast; not solving or unraveling, just listening.
no subject
He watches the fire for a few, quiet moments, apparently pensive. And then, while he chews on what's left of said stringy bits of pineapple: "Sounds like a great bloody pile of shit."
Frank, flat, and blunt. Because that's part of it too, this ritual he learned at Ostagar, and refined in the Order: commiseration and bombast; not solving or unraveling, just listening.