01.Sep.12, 07:17 AM
Tal sometimes wondered how Larrikith could not know. He knew B'jin tended to repress memories (he especially knew this after the business with Jada's flight), but had he really managed to keep all of that locked away in the back of his mind? Unintentionally, Talian called it all up. He thought about his first day on the island, cringing from her acidic words as he desperately tried to understand what was happening to him. He remembered his first encounter in the dining hall, where the same thing had happened in another context. It was hard not to meditate on those events, but even still he managed to keep himself calm. She didn't mean him harm, he reminded himself. At least not anymore. And she was so very soft!
When she was gone, he wasn't sure if he was relieved or unsatisfied. It was very confusing, so he chose not to dwell on it. He just sighed and slunk along after B'jin, thankful to find a little depression out of reach of the wind.
"I believe I'm the one who told you that," Tal reminded B'jin as he settled down in the grass. He didn't bother to point out that the stars weren't positive things to him any longer; they were different in the south, so different that he'd almost forgotten what the northern stars even looked like. It was unpleasant, but most things still reminded him of unpleasantness. Anyone who thought he was over it all was naive. He wasn't over it, nor did he expect he ever would be. He simply knew how to deal with it better. Unlike B'jin, who chose to repress, Talian chose to ignore.
That was hard to do on nights like this. He was glad that B'jin came along.
He nestled close to the man and sighed again, this time sounding relaxed. He shifted his tawny eyes to the greenrider, almost as if gauging his mood before speaking. "I know why you came tonight," the healer eventually said, though not without a lengthy gap of silence. "...Thank you. A lot has happened lately, and I just..."
He cut himself off and clamped his jaw shut, determined to stop himself before he even began. He hadn't let loose a long, emotional rant on B'jin in quite some time now. He wasn't going to fall back into the habit now. He sighed, trying to think of something else to fill the void that such a rant would usually occupy, and came to a pessimistic and humorously morbid conclusion.
"You know, if this had all happened differently, I think I'd have been happy for a chance to start over away from Talerian and my teachers," he observed, his comment sorely lacking in any emotion aside from a stirring of dark humor, which substituted for his usual bitterness. He was trying to be happy, and this was a remarkable effort, but his low standards at least. 'Happy' was something he'd never quite learned.
When she was gone, he wasn't sure if he was relieved or unsatisfied. It was very confusing, so he chose not to dwell on it. He just sighed and slunk along after B'jin, thankful to find a little depression out of reach of the wind.
"I believe I'm the one who told you that," Tal reminded B'jin as he settled down in the grass. He didn't bother to point out that the stars weren't positive things to him any longer; they were different in the south, so different that he'd almost forgotten what the northern stars even looked like. It was unpleasant, but most things still reminded him of unpleasantness. Anyone who thought he was over it all was naive. He wasn't over it, nor did he expect he ever would be. He simply knew how to deal with it better. Unlike B'jin, who chose to repress, Talian chose to ignore.
That was hard to do on nights like this. He was glad that B'jin came along.
He nestled close to the man and sighed again, this time sounding relaxed. He shifted his tawny eyes to the greenrider, almost as if gauging his mood before speaking. "I know why you came tonight," the healer eventually said, though not without a lengthy gap of silence. "...Thank you. A lot has happened lately, and I just..."
He cut himself off and clamped his jaw shut, determined to stop himself before he even began. He hadn't let loose a long, emotional rant on B'jin in quite some time now. He wasn't going to fall back into the habit now. He sighed, trying to think of something else to fill the void that such a rant would usually occupy, and came to a pessimistic and humorously morbid conclusion.
"You know, if this had all happened differently, I think I'd have been happy for a chance to start over away from Talerian and my teachers," he observed, his comment sorely lacking in any emotion aside from a stirring of dark humor, which substituted for his usual bitterness. He was trying to be happy, and this was a remarkable effort, but his low standards at least. 'Happy' was something he'd never quite learned.