I listened – perhaps for the first time. A year ago, I thought I had understood Evangeline… Perhaps not. New facets of her turned to my attention as she spoke, and I wondered – if she had grown. If I had.

     "Perhaps." I disliked the talk of shades; they clustered ever in the corners of my mind, hungry. But they were not the first such enemies to dwell there; perhaps that made the difference, between Evangeline’s perception of them and my own. "It hardly matters," I muttered. My patience grew thin with her continued worrying. If the shades did find Helovia... Well. I knew very well I would run again, but I was not so certain I would feel guilt as I had before. My body grew resistant to it, as the body does with poison – and perhaps with fear. I had become too tired for fear, and for the grind of idle speculation. I peered into the distance as she spoke of Validino; my thoughts ground incessantly regardless of my attempts to silence them.

     The world was ugly, everywhere.

     "You cared for him?" I supposed she must, if the sadness in her eyes was any indication – in the heaviness of her frame, the dull hollow ringing of her tone. "I'm sorry," I ended, my tone rough. She continued on; I could only listen in silence, comprehending but not understanding. She did not think of others as I did; she attached to them. I drew my lopsided gaze over her shape, aware (however uncertainly) that I had certainly become attached to her. Dependent. I had nearly died, in her absence.

     My ears tilted back; fine muscles of my mouth gathered in a frown.

     "You cannot hold on to everyone." I had never held on to anyone – had been content to watch them go. Hadn’t I? "Perhaps they are happier without you." It sounded cruel; I started as the words left my mouth, realization dawning a moment too late. But I had always seen it that way – my own path separate and no less important than whatever wanderings went on around me. More important, even. But how much of that had been untrue?

     "You are important, of course," I snapped at last. The tip of my tail twitched, betraying unease. "You are the only person I have chosen not to leave behind. So take heart in that." Whatever it meant. "I cannot say I understand your attachment to whatever others you have come across, but I assure you – any who would leave you behind are likely unworthy of your affection, in the first place. Love is not like blood; it does not run out. I would not know how to measure it, if it did, anyway." That sentence punctuated with a snort. "You will find others, I am sure." I found myself resenting the thought, as I said it – others who would cause her pain? No; it was insufferable. I vowed, privately, to keep a more watchful eye on her. She was far too good for the world we inhabited – too forgiving. The world ate forgiveness. It ate kindness.

     Its only purpose, in retrospect, seemed to lie with draining the good out of a man.

     I nodded, my gaze searching for hers once more. Something troubled roiled in my chest – malcontent. Racism, pain, heartbreak… It was all the same anywhere, wasn’t it? I grew tired of those games. "At least it is not the case here, anymore," I allowed. "I am not certain I would understand, if I found you allying yourself with racists." Was it a joke? It came out wryly, but I felt a kernel of indignation in it – that same part of myself which made poor decisions. Which had set Roanne aflame. Which had, so long ago, been nearly snuffed out by the hard hooves of soldiers.

     "Fortunately, that was not a conversation which needed to occur." I sidled forward then, stretching my limbs. "I am glad to have found you, of course. But there is much else I need to learn – about this place. Once I am not so wrecked." I cast a wry glance in her direction and lowered my head to snatch up, absently, a mouthful of grass.