It's a murmur of an answer, and an agreement; not a judgment so much as a question of itself. The words never fit together the way he'd like them to, without sounding them aloud. They're too wrapped up in picture, in scent, in the sense of something greater than all this earth and meat.
It should matter for its own sake, doing something. Trying to do something. Shouldn't it? He's always taken it on faith: If you can help, you help. Even when he was the one hiding, running from it all, he'd known he was doing the wrong thing.
Perhaps it needs a reason — this business of doing right and wrong. Perhaps it needs self-interest. Instead of banishing the I, hammering it into productive shape.
We.
"Thank you." A moment, he tips his head down low to breathe. "I'm glad you're here."
no subject
It's a murmur of an answer, and an agreement; not a judgment so much as a question of itself. The words never fit together the way he'd like them to, without sounding them aloud. They're too wrapped up in picture, in scent, in the sense of something greater than all this earth and meat.
It should matter for its own sake, doing something. Trying to do something. Shouldn't it? He's always taken it on faith: If you can help, you help. Even when he was the one hiding, running from it all, he'd known he was doing the wrong thing.
Perhaps it needs a reason — this business of doing right and wrong. Perhaps it needs self-interest. Instead of banishing the I, hammering it into productive shape.
We.
"Thank you." A moment, he tips his head down low to breathe. "I'm glad you're here."