[ She's just as restive as he is, and he watches with aloof amusement as she takes up that futile, pacing vigil at the bars. This is unremarkable, but her words do grate, like steel on stone. Her losses are laid before him as if they are precious stones he ought to appreciate: her lover, her child, her life. None of these things leave him aghast; children have been bearing children since the dawn of time. That she is no maiden would almost seem implied - who would she have been saved for, back on whatever dismal ranch she hailed from? - and her life was no luminous tragedy, tossed down in these cells among so many others.
That she thinks herself so privileged in her misery would be laughable, if only he did not share in the utter convenience of those agonies. He hops back down off the bunk, with the annoyance of a lion who has just had his tail tugged. ]
Is that all you know of misery? Did I not also lose my lover, my child and my life in the space of a day?
[ He had been separated from all three longer than that, in fact, but his imprisonment seems to have significantly worsened. Now he doesn't know where he's held, or by whom, and her urge to toward motion only tempts him to approach her again, to hinder what progress she can make, which is, even without his interference, considerably none.
Her request to leave her in silence, in particular, is one that must be answered with its opposite. It's not as if she can walk away. ]
You've never known misery and you've never known the cost of quitting gracefully. Tell me of all the gods have taken from you, or better yet, tell me of all the things you've let slip through your fingers, and then we'll take a measure of our miseries.
no subject
That she thinks herself so privileged in her misery would be laughable, if only he did not share in the utter convenience of those agonies. He hops back down off the bunk, with the annoyance of a lion who has just had his tail tugged. ]
Is that all you know of misery? Did I not also lose my lover, my child and my life in the space of a day?
[ He had been separated from all three longer than that, in fact, but his imprisonment seems to have significantly worsened. Now he doesn't know where he's held, or by whom, and her urge to toward motion only tempts him to approach her again, to hinder what progress she can make, which is, even without his interference, considerably none.
Her request to leave her in silence, in particular, is one that must be answered with its opposite. It's not as if she can walk away. ]
You've never known misery and you've never known the cost of quitting gracefully. Tell me of all the gods have taken from you, or better yet, tell me of all the things you've let slip through your fingers, and then we'll take a measure of our miseries.