( He waits her out: her words, her process of reflection. It is a slow thing, the acknowledgement that you play a central part in a fairytale — that of the villain.
Throughout this, he holds on to the doll, dragging it closer to his chest, as if Kamala might think to snatch her away to retaliate for truths she might not be all too keen to hear. )
Listen to me. Undead things cannot die. They make house in dead bodies, because they want to live. ( And is it despair, the sudden warmth in his plaintive voice? Or a simple, quiet resolution? )
Destroying their flesh shells... doesn't extinguish them. It strands them. It leaves them... paralysed. Watching, waiting, stuck. For an eternity, during which they cannot die.
( A bitter, unkind, tormented fate, propagated by a group of miscreants who think the temporary solution of culling the undead benefits anyone beyond the men and women who monopolise these lands. )
I know what you thought: that they are torturing the living. You looked at them, and you saw wolves, and you stepped in to defend the rabbits. But there's a forest on this mountain, go see: even wolves have hungry young to feed. Your compassion doesn't right an injustice. It imbalances an ecosystem.
no subject
( He waits her out: her words, her process of reflection. It is a slow thing, the acknowledgement that you play a central part in a fairytale — that of the villain.
Throughout this, he holds on to the doll, dragging it closer to his chest, as if Kamala might think to snatch her away to retaliate for truths she might not be all too keen to hear. )
Listen to me. Undead things cannot die. They make house in dead bodies, because they want to live. ( And is it despair, the sudden warmth in his plaintive voice? Or a simple, quiet resolution? )
Destroying their flesh shells... doesn't extinguish them. It strands them. It leaves them... paralysed. Watching, waiting, stuck. For an eternity, during which they cannot die.
( A bitter, unkind, tormented fate, propagated by a group of miscreants who think the temporary solution of culling the undead benefits anyone beyond the men and women who monopolise these lands. )
I know what you thought: that they are torturing the living. You looked at them, and you saw wolves, and you stepped in to defend the rabbits. But there's a forest on this mountain, go see: even wolves have hungry young to feed. Your compassion doesn't right an injustice. It imbalances an ecosystem.