[The voice in his head recedes like rumbling, static background noise, the same way the tide recedes from a sandy shore. Vacillating, listening through Weir's ears, seeing through his eyes. At least the hunter's thoughts remain his own.
Loss. Grief. The desperate need for closure in the wake of all these things. She's right, he doesn't have the mindset-- No, the experience to see these as little more than a function that sometimes buoys itself up in a person's life, a reaction to an emotional pillar summarily, and permanently, lost.]
Should they really find themselves that "broken"? I would imagine anything at all.
no subject
Loss. Grief. The desperate need for closure in the wake of all these things. She's right, he doesn't have the mindset-- No, the experience to see these as little more than a function that sometimes buoys itself up in a person's life, a reaction to an emotional pillar summarily, and permanently, lost.]
Should they really find themselves that "broken"? I would imagine anything at all.