To find forgiveness in the weeds
"Well, the Atheneum is very old and while there have been restoration teams before me...there are a lot of books still in desperate need of repair. Even more than I know of in the backs of shelves I haven't explored yet, I imagine." Sometimes at night he tortured himself with thoughts of the tomes that were surely rotting away in forgotten corners of the Atheneum as he laid there. "Right, but a book is very different from a person. The words..would be more like a soul. Or a brain. It's the content, not the physical body...? Does that...make sense?" He'd never been very confident with his philosophical waxing.
Osozo's next words sounded like some kind of strange riddle. Sam leaned forward as if trying to see the 'book', but of course there was nothing there to help illustrate the concept. "Um...You're saying there's...more sand by Halo? Can you go to places not accessible by the portals...?" The Voice had once teleported him away from the Greatwood, so he knew it was possible.
