Putting the things you were closest to into words could be the hardest sometimes, Jigano knew. Things that were as much felt as known, that never needed to be thought about because they were always there. He waited patiently for Quanil to turn over what words they wanted, and which ones to discard, curious as to what the newest Seeker would say - and how they would say it. It might reveal much about them and how they thought, to see what descriptions they prioritized in describning their family. He already knew that there was a tension and growing estrangement there, but also that their parents valued and loved them enough to want to protect them, rather than letting them run off into the world to make their own way. At least, until now.
He nodded slowly in understanding as Quanil pried apart the difference between surviving and living, something he'd seen far too much of in the Hollowed Grounds, but which he also didn't blame people for. He might be an Outlander, but he had arrived before the Barrier had fallen and he had seen the conditions then, which were only now just starting to ease up a little as seeds and animals from the Greatwood began to creep across the border and revitalize the weary region. But Quanil's parents had spent decades living in that mindset, with nothing to compare it to. "They might yet change," Jigano said quietly. "Given time enough and some improvement in their lot. They might come to see the value of living for something beyond being alive tomorrow. But it will take time, and an improvement in the Hollowed Grounds so they have time to do more than find enough food to eat." And safety, so that they weren't living in fear of what new catastrophe each new season would bring.
He gave the newest Seeker a small smile of encouragement and a nod at their use of the word for their parents, the description fitting neatly in with what they'd said before. "What are their names?" He probed gently. "Do they have any skills beyond keeping the farm running? Music or storytelling or knitting or wood carving... anything like that?"
He nodded slowly in understanding as Quanil pried apart the difference between surviving and living, something he'd seen far too much of in the Hollowed Grounds, but which he also didn't blame people for. He might be an Outlander, but he had arrived before the Barrier had fallen and he had seen the conditions then, which were only now just starting to ease up a little as seeds and animals from the Greatwood began to creep across the border and revitalize the weary region. But Quanil's parents had spent decades living in that mindset, with nothing to compare it to. "They might yet change," Jigano said quietly. "Given time enough and some improvement in their lot. They might come to see the value of living for something beyond being alive tomorrow. But it will take time, and an improvement in the Hollowed Grounds so they have time to do more than find enough food to eat." And safety, so that they weren't living in fear of what new catastrophe each new season would bring.
He gave the newest Seeker a small smile of encouragement and a nod at their use of the word for their parents, the description fitting neatly in with what they'd said before. "What are their names?" He probed gently. "Do they have any skills beyond keeping the farm running? Music or storytelling or knitting or wood carving... anything like that?"
