Her brows crease slightly at the mention that none of his family, really, was kind to him. She believes him, and for once, finds herself at a loss for words. What a hell of a way to begin, but she isn’t going to tell him that. He already knows it. Instead, she lets the topic drift for the next one. ”And I hope you never have to. I’ve only killed animals, and I don’t even necessarily enjoy it.” Ningos, poor bastards, and the occasional larger game when she could manage it.
She can almost hear the way he parrots the words, probably, the annoyance in his tone sounding much like the way Weaver might have thrown her mother or her old brother (or Zariah’s) words back at them. Weaver grins just slightly, amused at the familiarity of it, though not at the topic itself. ”I think it probably depends. Do you throw yourself into harm's way needlessly, or with good reason?” Which of course was somewhat subjective, she knows, but at the end of the day she is the sort who operates on the principle that what the doer thinks is all that really matters.
He continues, and she raises an eyebrow slightly. ”If you can throw yourself into danger enough to piss off other people, you probably have to let them do the same. If it’s not going to get them killed, and you give your advice, is it so bad to let them learn? Some of us are pretty hard headed and only learn by doing.” Certainly she knew that was true of herself, having to learn a whole lot of things the hard way.
”I take it you’ve had lectures on this from well-meaning friends or drunkards?” She asks, not so much expecting an answer but making the observation. She’s less into lecturing and more into simply pushing someone else to figure it out for themselves, which it seems he’s done. Eventually he’d turn head-knowledge into heart-knowledge. No one could lecture you well enough to make that change for you.
Her smile curves into something more playful though. ”Right here, in the middle of the tavern? If so, yes, because I find that highly amusing.”
He seems to steel himself for the idea of living, and she drops her hands to cover his in his lap, leaning forward close enough to kiss him. ”Good,” she says, a breath away from him. ”You get up tomorrow and you do your best. And then the next day, and the next. And you don’t overthink it and you don’t worry about pasts or futures or whatever else. You just live. That is all we can do.”
She can almost hear the way he parrots the words, probably, the annoyance in his tone sounding much like the way Weaver might have thrown her mother or her old brother (
He continues, and she raises an eyebrow slightly. ”If you can throw yourself into danger enough to piss off other people, you probably have to let them do the same. If it’s not going to get them killed, and you give your advice, is it so bad to let them learn? Some of us are pretty hard headed and only learn by doing.” Certainly she knew that was true of herself, having to learn a whole lot of things the hard way.
”I take it you’ve had lectures on this from well-meaning friends or drunkards?” She asks, not so much expecting an answer but making the observation. She’s less into lecturing and more into simply pushing someone else to figure it out for themselves, which it seems he’s done. Eventually he’d turn head-knowledge into heart-knowledge. No one could lecture you well enough to make that change for you.
Her smile curves into something more playful though. ”Right here, in the middle of the tavern? If so, yes, because I find that highly amusing.”
He seems to steel himself for the idea of living, and she drops her hands to cover his in his lap, leaning forward close enough to kiss him. ”Good,” she says, a breath away from him. ”You get up tomorrow and you do your best. And then the next day, and the next. And you don’t overthink it and you don’t worry about pasts or futures or whatever else. You just live. That is all we can do.”
weaver
-- ask no questions, and you'll be told no lies --
Quote by Charles Dickens
