[ her question evokes an audible intake of breath, sharp and unsteady.
he's never turned the thought on himself before. has it helped? what good has travelling done him? it was something he had started only because he had thought, foolishly, that he would be able to find the Moon Man just by looking beyond the walls of Sanctuary. when it hadn't been that, it had been fear; better to put more distance between himself and wherever he had been, in case someone ever thought to catch him. as time passed and nothing changed, it had been... what? what had it been? yes, he had avoided cities for fear that he would hurt others and thus also be exposed, but he could have settled down elsewhere, outside the confines of any city.
and he hadn't. he had moved, endlessly, skipping from one city to the next and simply taking his time on the path between. he had been running. not in fear, not as prey feeling hunted by shadows, but because if he stopped running, if he allowed things to settle, then he would have to face himself. he would be left alone with nothing to occupy his mind, and his thoughts would turn dark far too quickly.
but he still doesn't know what the answer is. isn't sure whether that is help or hindrance. does it even count as the travel, if all he has ever focused on is the escape?
he gives her the only honest answer he can, his voice quiet and small: ]
no subject
he's never turned the thought on himself before. has it helped? what good has travelling done him? it was something he had started only because he had thought, foolishly, that he would be able to find the Moon Man just by looking beyond the walls of Sanctuary. when it hadn't been that, it had been fear; better to put more distance between himself and wherever he had been, in case someone ever thought to catch him. as time passed and nothing changed, it had been... what? what had it been? yes, he had avoided cities for fear that he would hurt others and thus also be exposed, but he could have settled down elsewhere, outside the confines of any city.
and he hadn't. he had moved, endlessly, skipping from one city to the next and simply taking his time on the path between. he had been running. not in fear, not as prey feeling hunted by shadows, but because if he stopped running, if he allowed things to settle, then he would have to face himself. he would be left alone with nothing to occupy his mind, and his thoughts would turn dark far too quickly.
but he still doesn't know what the answer is. isn't sure whether that is help or hindrance. does it even count as the travel, if all he has ever focused on is the escape?
he gives her the only honest answer he can, his voice quiet and small: ]
I don't know.