It’s not dying I’m afraid of
”He is worse than he was before,” she admits, stuffing her hands into her pockets as they walk, exhaling a long breath. ”I didn’t quite think it was possible, but the silence must be getting to him.” He can’t play his lute, can talk but doesn’t. His voice barely sounds like his own anymore. Not an ideal curse, and though maybe there is something to learn from it, he’s clearly not going to learn it.
She shoots him a glance, eyebrows raised. ”Nobody got hurt?” she says, though it’s clear her tone is teasing. However, technically she got hurt. Even if it was only a bruise, and one that she wouldn’t have worried about even without healing magic. Still, she cannot help herself.
She pauses, thinking for a moment. How does she define good? It is a fluid thing, shifting as the situations around her shift. ”It is doing what it takes. What it takes to survive, to help those I care about, to do the least unnecessary damage.” Not unlike what he had said before, and she nods her head slightly in his direction to acknowledge it. Though she adds the word unnecessary, because sometimes, there was no avoiding it.
She shoots him a glance, eyebrows raised. ”Nobody got hurt?” she says, though it’s clear her tone is teasing. However, technically she got hurt. Even if it was only a bruise, and one that she wouldn’t have worried about even without healing magic. Still, she cannot help herself.
She pauses, thinking for a moment. How does she define good? It is a fluid thing, shifting as the situations around her shift. ”It is doing what it takes. What it takes to survive, to help those I care about, to do the least unnecessary damage.” Not unlike what he had said before, and she nods her head slightly in his direction to acknowledge it. Though she adds the word unnecessary, because sometimes, there was no avoiding it.
weaver
it’s dying without ever having lived
