Stone Circle To you I’m probably a light sadness

Again and again, she stood in his way whereas Indra encouraged him; the mixture of the two was frustrating, at best, but downright confusing overall. One said go and another said stay but only one held power there, it seemed, and she wasn’t willing to budge. But what she pointed out wasn’t entirely wrong—wouldn’t Laurel have had approached, had she any interest in speaking with him? The truth was painfully obvious but not something that he chose to acknowledge; a part of him had prolonged the inevitable for too long already, and he wasn’t willing to let anything, or anyone, else do the same.

“I want to talk to Laurel,” he repeated through gritted teeth. It wouldn’t be difficult, he thought, to just barrel past her. He did not doubt his own physical capabilities but he was hesitant yet. His sister had an entire pack at her beck and call, a pack that he did not know the quantity of, whereas he was but one, individual being. His options were limited—but not necessarily limited to the options that she had given him.

Alexander brought his attention back to Laurel and looked to her pleadingly before calling out, “Laurel!” Please answer. He did not forget his sister’s being there, no. But he also did not glance her way, not again, not when she refused to help him. And although he did not look her way, he did tell her, “I don’t want to talk to you, you can’t help anything. I want to talk to Laurel and I’m not leaving until I do or I hear her say that she doesn’t want to talk to me.” As he spoke, however, he wondered if he could uphold his own word—if Laurel did choose to dismiss him, would he even be able to leave? Could he honour his word? The answer to that question is a tricky one, undecided and undecidable. “I want to make things better, Desna,” he muttered. “But you’re not letting me even try.” Why was everyone always so unwilling to just give him a chance? Why couldn’t he find peace, too?