I'm not the only one
Who finds it hard to understand
The shield was cold beneath her fingertips, and Mallorie was amused by Morgan’s discreet look over. Mallorie seemed to be entirely human now, as far as she knew about human physiology.
“I miss some things,” she said, “but I suppose being alive is better than having pointy ears.”
She’d studied them, back in the inn. Still pointier than the average, she thought, but not elven. She decided to return Morgan’s kindness and explain a little more.
“We were humanoid at least, so most of it’s the same. But we perceived the world differently. It’s...a bit like the portal put blinkers on me.”
Mallorie let a small smirk tug her lips, and added, “We were also very long-lived. Though we could be killed all the same. That’s one thing we have in common with this place.”
Morgan’s comment about loss surprised Mallorie, and she froze. Fingers whitening on the shield as she absorbed her words. Of course, she thought, there is poetry in living, even as you walk among the dying.
She frowned and pondered it. Tugged at the faint thread of thought that had come undone at the idea, and felt a little foolish. For all her experience she’d let herself miss that even in absence there were remnants, things from which life and direction could be made.
Mallorie looked up at Morgan again, and said, “You’re right enough, Captain. It’s just been a while since I lost anything.”
“I miss some things,” she said, “but I suppose being alive is better than having pointy ears.”
She’d studied them, back in the inn. Still pointier than the average, she thought, but not elven. She decided to return Morgan’s kindness and explain a little more.
“We were humanoid at least, so most of it’s the same. But we perceived the world differently. It’s...a bit like the portal put blinkers on me.”
Mallorie let a small smirk tug her lips, and added, “We were also very long-lived. Though we could be killed all the same. That’s one thing we have in common with this place.”
Morgan’s comment about loss surprised Mallorie, and she froze. Fingers whitening on the shield as she absorbed her words. Of course, she thought, there is poetry in living, even as you walk among the dying.
She frowned and pondered it. Tugged at the faint thread of thought that had come undone at the idea, and felt a little foolish. For all her experience she’d let herself miss that even in absence there were remnants, things from which life and direction could be made.
Mallorie looked up at Morgan again, and said, “You’re right enough, Captain. It’s just been a while since I lost anything.”
I'm not afraid of God
I am afraid of Man
MALLORIE
Base Code by Sky!
