The fair-haired girl grimaced at that.
"Better to hope and pretend that it will make a difference than let people give up hope and drown in misery. You'd be surprised how quickly some would give up if there was nothing to hold on to."
Returning Isuma to her owner, she tucked her hands into the sleeves and drew her shoulder up towards the ears, as much against the cold as to ward of the uncomfortable thoughts. Was she not the same, after all? Complacent, resigned, all too comfortable with letting things slowly crumble, as long as none of the bad things happened to her. Well, the bad was coming for all of them sooner or later, and Maea wished she were brave enough to be one of those who stood up with fire and lightning to fight it. She wished she had the strength, and indeed the time to find all those aspects within herself. Jigano's words were encouraging, alluring almost, instilled her with a moment of desperate hope...
But it died again when she gazed at him and the features of his face faded into an indistinct blur. A year ago she would have been able to make out the shape of his eyes and seen the lines if wear and worry that traced them, but all she had now was the moonlight halo of white hair around an indistinct blob flecked with pale blue. Like a child's drawing, smudged almost beyond recognition. How long before that too would fade, and light would be denied her altogether?
"What kind of lore do you keep?" she asked, almost wistfully. "I..." But then she hesitated, and broke off. White hair or no, he was still a stranger. Dumpning her problems on him would be rude, and already she was preventing him from going about his business. "I'm sorry, you were looking for your friend. I should'nt keep you..."
"Better to hope and pretend that it will make a difference than let people give up hope and drown in misery. You'd be surprised how quickly some would give up if there was nothing to hold on to."
Returning Isuma to her owner, she tucked her hands into the sleeves and drew her shoulder up towards the ears, as much against the cold as to ward of the uncomfortable thoughts. Was she not the same, after all? Complacent, resigned, all too comfortable with letting things slowly crumble, as long as none of the bad things happened to her. Well, the bad was coming for all of them sooner or later, and Maea wished she were brave enough to be one of those who stood up with fire and lightning to fight it. She wished she had the strength, and indeed the time to find all those aspects within herself. Jigano's words were encouraging, alluring almost, instilled her with a moment of desperate hope...
But it died again when she gazed at him and the features of his face faded into an indistinct blur. A year ago she would have been able to make out the shape of his eyes and seen the lines if wear and worry that traced them, but all she had now was the moonlight halo of white hair around an indistinct blob flecked with pale blue. Like a child's drawing, smudged almost beyond recognition. How long before that too would fade, and light would be denied her altogether?
"What kind of lore do you keep?" she asked, almost wistfully. "I..." But then she hesitated, and broke off. White hair or no, he was still a stranger. Dumpning her problems on him would be rude, and already she was preventing him from going about his business. "I'm sorry, you were looking for your friend. I should'nt keep you..."
