The very slightest sigh accompanies the small tilt of her face to his hand— there's not no twinge of discomfort at feeling as exposed as she does, right now, but he's more a comfort than he isn't. He isn't going anywhere; she doesn't need to untangle that feeling all at once.
“He's old,” she points out, “it's not outside the realm of possibility his reasoning has already started degrading and we just don't have anything to compare it to, in which case reasoning with him is—”
Challenging. She wobbles a hand.
“I think the flaw in the dementia argument is just that they've generally already either made their peace with it or decided not to think about it. It's hard to argue with something someone's already decided is worth it or that they think they can avoid by dying in battle, I mean, they already know they don't retire.” Templars die or deteriorate: it's how Templars work. “And they're children at the beginning. Not that I can imagine Coupe as a child. She was probably already a cunt.”
no subject
“He's old,” she points out, “it's not outside the realm of possibility his reasoning has already started degrading and we just don't have anything to compare it to, in which case reasoning with him is—”
Challenging. She wobbles a hand.
“I think the flaw in the dementia argument is just that they've generally already either made their peace with it or decided not to think about it. It's hard to argue with something someone's already decided is worth it or that they think they can avoid by dying in battle, I mean, they already know they don't retire.” Templars die or deteriorate: it's how Templars work. “And they're children at the beginning. Not that I can imagine Coupe as a child. She was probably already a cunt.”