[The smile slowly fades from his face as she speaks, and he stops his moving around. He is focused on her and her story. He is proud, and it shows in the hardness of his eyes and the set of his mouth, when she says that they never gave up that information.
It's not his world, and he can't imagine being part of it, but one of the names is familiar enough that it throws him: makes him think, momentarily, that this might not be a different world-- just a future one. It doesn't bear thinking about for to long, and he doesn't want his attention to wander.]
And you bided your time.
[But he knows how it ended. She told him in the greenhouse: now the whole world is probably sand. She doesn't need his anger, nor does she need his sympathy, or his reassurance. But they are there if she asks for them.]
[spam]
It's not his world, and he can't imagine being part of it, but one of the names is familiar enough that it throws him: makes him think, momentarily, that this might not be a different world-- just a future one. It doesn't bear thinking about for to long, and he doesn't want his attention to wander.]
And you bided your time.
[But he knows how it ended. She told him in the greenhouse: now the whole world is probably sand. She doesn't need his anger, nor does she need his sympathy, or his reassurance. But they are there if she asks for them.]