we owe this to ourselves

SUNJATA

i was never the sharp knife, but i was never the dull mind
i was somewhere in between, a thorn, an acquiescent

He can immediately tell that she doesn’t recognize him, hasn’t heard of him, knows relatively nothing about him — and somehow it’s a surprising balm to the stress that has overcome the Flood. He starts to relax, his headache with it, as he scans her briefly then to the tree tops.

He has been here before. Numerous times, actually. “I have. There’s a shrine over there for Frey I stop by at. It’s actually where I’ve just come from.” He offers, tilting his head back toward her to offer a small smile, one that’s crooked due to the scarring on half of his cheek and lip. “Have you been here before?” He asks, guessing by her tone and excitement that perhaps she’s new to this tropical paradise.

And even if it wasn’t her first visit, there’s something about the smile on her face and her open attention that makes him think perhaps he should spend more time relishing in the little things of life rather than the constant cloud of sorrow that he often found himself in.

so you said it was for me, when you tried to break me
well you can save your breath, i know, i'm not the kind you pray for