CHULANE
Weaver had been many things, and Chulane would only knew a few of them from the short time he had with her. Loren would know another side, perhaps more of the true Weaver, perhaps not. Kia had trained with her, had met the warrior within. And all of Halo had felt her steady leadership, her love and devotion to her land as Warden. But only Korbin knew her true self, the one that had seen her grow from child to girl to woman, from barkeep to Warden, warrior to sister. Only he could tell a story about Weaver so complete - and in doing so, he would hopefully find himself telling a story about himself too.
To tell a story, one had to be alive, that was the important part, the part Chulane hoped would give Korbin some purpose, some intent to this dreary life he seemingly had had enough of.
Chulane waited for more words to come, and was surprised at first, when they did. He could tell Korbin was mentally elsewhere, could tell that his mind was still processing all of the implications of their entire conversation, of their night that had begun out on the ice again, and wouldn't yet end. And yet, despite it all, Korbin managed to comment that he was contradicting himself?
The vet almost huffed a laugh, but it was cut off as suddenly Korbin was laughing - not a true, hearty laugh, more a laugh all the same.
Had he broken the boy? Ruptured his mind completely?
Chulane had wanted to reply, had wanted to say that there was so much more than just those two options to live for, but if both would convince him to keep living then those were the only reasons that mattered. But Korbin was speaking again, and he let him speak, afraid that if he interrupted he would lose this momentum, this chance. They were on a precipice, looking over the edge, deciding whether to jump or to step back - but was life the jump or the step back?
And then it was there, a hand, an opportunity, a chance. He didn't know if it was meant for him, didn't know if he should take it; But he took it all the same. Leaned over, reached his hands out for the one proffered, clasped it tightly, offering his own strength, his own warmth and solidarity for the boy to lean on, to hold onto, to use and trust.
"I know, mate. I'm here, mate," he murmured, "I'm here."
To tell a story, one had to be alive, that was the important part, the part Chulane hoped would give Korbin some purpose, some intent to this dreary life he seemingly had had enough of.
Chulane waited for more words to come, and was surprised at first, when they did. He could tell Korbin was mentally elsewhere, could tell that his mind was still processing all of the implications of their entire conversation, of their night that had begun out on the ice again, and wouldn't yet end. And yet, despite it all, Korbin managed to comment that he was contradicting himself?
The vet almost huffed a laugh, but it was cut off as suddenly Korbin was laughing - not a true, hearty laugh, more a laugh all the same.
Had he broken the boy? Ruptured his mind completely?
Chulane had wanted to reply, had wanted to say that there was so much more than just those two options to live for, but if both would convince him to keep living then those were the only reasons that mattered. But Korbin was speaking again, and he let him speak, afraid that if he interrupted he would lose this momentum, this chance. They were on a precipice, looking over the edge, deciding whether to jump or to step back - but was life the jump or the step back?
And then it was there, a hand, an opportunity, a chance. He didn't know if it was meant for him, didn't know if he should take it; But he took it all the same. Leaned over, reached his hands out for the one proffered, clasped it tightly, offering his own strength, his own warmth and solidarity for the boy to lean on, to hold onto, to use and trust.
"I know, mate. I'm here, mate," he murmured, "I'm here."
it is better to know some of the questions
than all of the answers
than all of the answers
