A drop in the bucket

On the walk back, Sam nearly left several times. Made up some half-hearted excuse about forgetting something at home and ran away, never coming back to give Jigano the fluid. Something though, despite his instincts, kept him walking next to the bard; perhaps it was a sense of loyalty or some desperate attempt to cling onto his old life, but he couldn't deny the man this, even after all that had been said. As they headed into the hall and Jigano began to ask him about cuts, Sam laughed - bitter and sad at the same time; he couldn't help saying: "I have experience in cutting myself. I know how to do it." It was painfully revealing, vulnerable, but he was not in the frame of mind to hold his words back. "Besides...I no longer feel pain. The Voice took it away." He was sure Jigano would have opinions on that, but frankly he didn't care to hear them. Taking the letter opener he held his wrist over the bottle. Despite his reassurance that he knew what he was doing, he hesitated anyway for a moment, blade still against his skin. Then he shut his eyes and made the cut, clear fluid oozing up out of his skin right away. Samuel He took a step but then felt tired He said, I'll rest a little while But when he tried to walk again He wasn't a child