(open) 'cause we find ourselves in the same old mess

Samuel

Wessex didn't provide him with any new information, but given how hard it had been to pin down the Prince when he'd literally had him in his sights, Sam couldn't begrudge her that. As for what his help would look like? He sighed, pushing a hand through his hair; he wasn't completely naive. The idea of a merciful death had occurred to him as well, but surely, hopefully, there would be another way. "I'd want to take him to the Voice and see if she can help...fix him, I suppose. She can make better Ascended now. Real people. Maybe she could upgrade him. If not...then I guess...it's up to her what happens."

Hopefully he wouldn't have to make any decisions on that front himself; Sam was quite comfortable leaving all of that to their Goddess.

She considered his question about the Sparkbird and Sam waited, thinking in the time it took her to answer that this was the first time he could recall that they'd had a civil, almost pleasant conversation, which was odd, because prior to Longnight he'd been quite angry. He supposed a part of maturing was letting things go. "Hm. I mean, maybe it's less the birds own bias, something more like the Old Gods knowing we were the only ones here and riling it up...but I might just be making up conspiracies. I do tend to do that." With a self deprecating smile, he gently neatened up the remaining ashes with his shovel, nudging them into a lump.

I was not ready for the road
I was so discontent to wear that heavy load