(o) you're not the same, you died along the way

SUNJATA

the flood

i'm nothing more than a page unwritten
on the pavement, blowing in the wind

“Mmm.” He agrees, the accented rumble softer in his ears than he anticipates it to be. “Like a broken record at this point.” He offers with a small shrug, already relaxing as the tension in the air lessens. He’s still upset about the clinic burning, yes, but there’s nothing he can do about it now. All it draws back to is the what-if’s, the waiting game of Nate waking up to tell him to contact Maea, and to simply… Just exist from there.

So instead, he focuses on the bottom part of the lantern, wrapping it around with little pieces of rough, partially rusted metal, more little plates to be placed around and around as a base to be attached and unattached whenever he got around to putting a candle in it as she washes the fluid from her cheeks.

Her question is a good one, one that has him thinking back on what he’s done. Not a whole lot all things considered, rare for him.  “Went to Stormbreak, got Nate back. Watered the deity. Got stuck in a shitty cave with Amun. Worked on my quest from Frey some more.” He shrugs, pausing as he sets the lantern down, wings ruffling as he moves to sit back a little. “Met the Voice officially.”

He regards her curiously now, taking a slow, even, measured breath. "You?"

you win a lot, and you lose
just a little bit more than you gained in the end