[ Like he cares. Right now, all he feels is antipathy — a complete absence of hope. Without Rain, there's nothing left. There isn't even the satisfaction of having destroyed it all, considering he's found himself in some other place. Oblivion was everything to him. A natural end for an endless thing, pure and final and the complete absence of all that he was and is and will be. If anything, he yearns to go back there. He almost wants to ask this man to put his hands around his throat and send him there, personally.

Except.

He'd gone once. He had, for real. And someone had brought him back. Someone had brought them all back, through that Tree — he wonders, then. He wonders, brokenly and quietly... if he does away with the Tree and the woman, will Oblivion finally, finally capture all things without reprieve? ]

Liar.

[ He spits the word, as Amos picks him up. ]

She knew. "The right thing" isn't ever "the kindest thing". So, she knew she'd be cruel and she chose to do it anyways.

[ He'll never forgive her, ever. Even as he settles, thin and small, into Amos's arms and presses his face against the man's shoulder. Whatever, it's fine to be carried. Not like he can feel his legs right now, wearing shorts like he is. It's cold, and sometimes his nerves fail him completely. Leaving him limp and fragmented despite his body's supposed youth and health. ]

— I don't want to eat, but we can sit in there. I want to know about this place.