There were someways in which other Soqs did not make sense. At all. Their insistent clinging to the laziness of speech was certainly one, but that whole mess with Briallen showed him another as well. Love. It made no sense.The healer who smelled like Bri had said that her daughter, so apparently that was what her mother looked like, had feelings of love and lust for him. Impossible. And she asked how he felt, he had told them, in his own way. He had left. Love. A pointless emotion. One he had never felt. Again Lian's image came to his mind, and again he banished it. She had needed someone to care for her, and he had been that some one. It was just lucky for her that he happened across her basket. The basket that her mother abandoned. Mothers. He snorted. Who needed them? Who needed parents? Parents were just creatures that brought one into this world and then abandoned him or her. He had done just fine raising himself, and not a half bad job on Lian either.
Love. It made no sense. What was it, anyway? And why were so many Soqs so stuck on it. It seemed almost as bad an epidemic as speech, and that seemed more a constant then even breath. Annoying. Very very annoying. And so many acted like he was incomplete without it. Well who needed their opinions anyway? He had a friend, one whole friend, and that was enough for him, even if he hadn't seen Heha in ages. It was fine. Not since Heha stuck him on that vile escort quest to take Hydro to visit the grave of her parents. Parents. He looked disgusted, because that was how he felt. And graves. The dead were just that, dead. They didn't need visits and grave markers and tears. They were dead, what did they know? Just one more way to leave their foal. Death, the ultimate in laziness. Why be so sad because someone no longer has anything expected of them? Is no longer bothered by everyone? Not that he particularly wanted to die himself, he just didn't see it as a tragedy if he did, and hoped that no one wasted time crying over him, or worse, words talking about him? It seemed like once someone died that was a signal to the world to tell all their stories, and ones he was sure weren't even factual. He really hoped that when he died some one just shoved his body where it wouldn't stink up the area for anyone, or be in the way. That was the end of it. And if he knew he was close to going, he'd try to find an out of the way place so they wouldn't even have to do that much.
His nose still hurt.
