He shakes his head at her mention, denying it. Yes, it's overwhelming, yes, it is so much for his mind to grasp, and he can feel it fray and tatter at his thoughts and at the corners of his mind, but he doesn't regret it either. He doesn't regret it.
"It's your home!" A brilliant smile accompanies his claim, bright with hope, and care. It doesn't matter to Esteban that the world she's shown him left him dizzy and with a pinching headache over each of his ears. She's shown him something that was important to her. And the half-elf is touched that she has.
"Thank you for showin' me." He repeats, his smiles curving more easily now, less lost into the vastness snatched in his mind that he can't even conceive. "I'm glad that you did."
He still grasps at the explanation, piecing together pieces of the puzzle that show him details instead of the whole, because the picture is still too big for him to catch on. But each little thing clicks a facet into place, a shard of it, and somehow, it reminds him of Eriat, the mirror moon. The light bounced wrong, and he went blind-- but it won't stop him from loving her colours when they spark across the ground.
"So they're mirrors, right?" That's one shard of it. "What 'bout the rain?" He asks, still following this line of questioning through.
The one thing he'd been greedy over is the weather controls in the train after all; and to this day, Esteban rarely has seen anyone wrestle it out of his hands. It's a change that keeps him sane in the eternal sameness of the train.
no subject
"It's your home!" A brilliant smile accompanies his claim, bright with hope, and care. It doesn't matter to Esteban that the world she's shown him left him dizzy and with a pinching headache over each of his ears. She's shown him something that was important to her. And the half-elf is touched that she has.
"Thank you for showin' me." He repeats, his smiles curving more easily now, less lost into the vastness snatched in his mind that he can't even conceive. "I'm glad that you did."
He still grasps at the explanation, piecing together pieces of the puzzle that show him details instead of the whole, because the picture is still too big for him to catch on. But each little thing clicks a facet into place, a shard of it, and somehow, it reminds him of Eriat, the mirror moon. The light bounced wrong, and he went blind-- but it won't stop him from loving her colours when they spark across the ground.
"So they're mirrors, right?" That's one shard of it. "What 'bout the rain?" He asks, still following this line of questioning through.
The one thing he'd been greedy over is the weather controls in the train after all; and to this day, Esteban rarely has seen anyone wrestle it out of his hands. It's a change that keeps him sane in the eternal sameness of the train.