LOREN
Loren supposed it depended on Phoebe’s definition of halfway: he certainly threw himself into everything he did. Unfortunately, he rarely completed whatever task he’d actually attempted to do. ”Maybe.” He really didn’t want to speculate on his personality or his nature. As far as he was concerned, there’d been more than enough of that in his life recently, and most of the introspection and retrospection hadn’t unearthed any truths he was happy with.
”I have all those things at home.” Even though he knew he was being a bit petty—and it was only partially true—he couldn’t stop himself. Granted, Beatrix and Jace were still barely around, even though he’d managed to convince them to come home, and one of the houseguests was blighted, and the other two seemed to have disappeared into thin air, and he slept on a cot, and there were quite a few drafts and the hallways were cold...okay maybe he didn’t have any of those things at home. But he’d tried, at least. ”Thank you, though. Again.”
At the healer’s kind offer to feed him, he hesitated. On the one hand, he’d lost most of the weight he’d put on since his return in the aftermath of everything with Remi; on the other hand, he didn’t want to impose, and he knew he should probably get back to the Manor and make sure no one had set the place on fire or died. However, it did sound kind of nice, though he snorted at her comment about his tastes. ”I was a farmer, remember? And before that my family used to drop me off in the wilderness to fend for myself on a regular basis. I wouldn’t worry too much about my tastes being highbrow.” Indeed, he often preferred simple fare, since luxuries had been denied to him for so long and were often too rich for him.
”I have all those things at home.” Even though he knew he was being a bit petty—and it was only partially true—he couldn’t stop himself. Granted, Beatrix and Jace were still barely around, even though he’d managed to convince them to come home, and one of the houseguests was blighted, and the other two seemed to have disappeared into thin air, and he slept on a cot, and there were quite a few drafts and the hallways were cold...okay maybe he didn’t have any of those things at home. But he’d tried, at least. ”Thank you, though. Again.”
At the healer’s kind offer to feed him, he hesitated. On the one hand, he’d lost most of the weight he’d put on since his return in the aftermath of everything with Remi; on the other hand, he didn’t want to impose, and he knew he should probably get back to the Manor and make sure no one had set the place on fire or died. However, it did sound kind of nice, though he snorted at her comment about his tastes. ”I was a farmer, remember? And before that my family used to drop me off in the wilderness to fend for myself on a regular basis. I wouldn’t worry too much about my tastes being highbrow.” Indeed, he often preferred simple fare, since luxuries had been denied to him for so long and were often too rich for him.
But don’t be weary if it’s broken
Families are like that—
they’re split up and always torn.
