[Hawke is quiet for a few seconds. Which is unusual because it seems like the perfect place to toss back some kind of quip or insult. And she wishes she had one. But right now she's sort of in shock at the extent to which she just spilled her guts to him. Hawke doesn't do that. Her heart is held so close to her chest that sometimes even she doesn't know how to let her guard drop.
She feels... tired. Like she had thought maybe telling the truth, even if it had been nonsensical and round about, would relieve some of the anxiety tearing at her chest. Like the relief you get from nausea after vomiting. Unpleasant but ultimately better. Instead she just feels tired, numb, like when you have a bad case of the flu.
Hawke sighs and finally looks back up at him.]
Death is generally pretty brutal. Or at least that's probably why it has such a bad reputation.
no subject
She feels... tired. Like she had thought maybe telling the truth, even if it had been nonsensical and round about, would relieve some of the anxiety tearing at her chest. Like the relief you get from nausea after vomiting. Unpleasant but ultimately better. Instead she just feels tired, numb, like when you have a bad case of the flu.
Hawke sighs and finally looks back up at him.]
Death is generally pretty brutal. Or at least that's probably why it has such a bad reputation.