[ Action, reaction, consequence. Carver tilts his head, marking her reaction. The reluctance as she draws the obvious conclusions. He doubts anyone's tried to kill her before. There's something almost melancholy at that thought. He vaguely remembers his own confusion when he went to war the first time, when he still believed people were good deep down, that they wouldn't really kill each other with knives. That he wouldn't be called to do the same, and first, and best.
That was a long time ago. His past self lingers in shadows, a ghost only half remembered. ]
no subject
[ Action, reaction, consequence. Carver tilts his head, marking her reaction. The reluctance as she draws the obvious conclusions. He doubts anyone's tried to kill her before. There's something almost melancholy at that thought. He vaguely remembers his own confusion when he went to war the first time, when he still believed people were good deep down, that they wouldn't really kill each other with knives. That he wouldn't be called to do the same, and first, and best.
That was a long time ago. His past self lingers in shadows, a ghost only half remembered. ]
Not accurately, anyway.