Wrathion shifts, both hands coming to rest on the table so he can lean heavily into it.
"She's lived a long life, I'm sure. Most, given the chance, would fight for a taste of immortality. They fear the end. All the same, I wouldn't want this. The danger of being controlled at any moment. Living in a state of endless decay."
He frowns, fingers flexing unhappily against the table, then meets the Doctor's gaze.
"Where I am frown, undead creatures slowly lose themselves. Their bodies are weaker, but they also begin to forget what it was to be alive. The comfort of warmth. The ache of love and loss."
Something Wrathion would never want. He may struggle to control his emotions, may find them inconvenient and frustrating, but to live that way -- that way, he knows, would make him into the worst of creatures. Devoid of guilt, removed of all ties to the mortal races, a danger to everyone.
no subject
"She's lived a long life, I'm sure. Most, given the chance, would fight for a taste of immortality. They fear the end. All the same, I wouldn't want this. The danger of being controlled at any moment. Living in a state of endless decay."
He frowns, fingers flexing unhappily against the table, then meets the Doctor's gaze.
"Where I am frown, undead creatures slowly lose themselves. Their bodies are weaker, but they also begin to forget what it was to be alive. The comfort of warmth. The ache of love and loss."
Something Wrathion would never want. He may struggle to control his emotions, may find them inconvenient and frustrating, but to live that way -- that way, he knows, would make him into the worst of creatures. Devoid of guilt, removed of all ties to the mortal races, a danger to everyone.