"Dolls bear the mark of their maker Lyra.... did you think that branding would help?"

But his voice wasn't mocking or cutting this time, it seemed at least to carry an edge of sympathy, of ... respect.

"One way or another Lyra, I have to try and save them, I hope you won't begrudge me that.... even if I am likely to fail. They are good people... disgusted by your 'prince' and his offerings, betrayed by the rulers of our own world... fighting he soldiers of OTHER worlds in a war of opinions that scuttles through the night like some beast of nightmares, blood and fears, but we are what you say. Whatever they would have you think of us we are still human."

He seemed to know he would get no more answers without abusing her, without causing her as much pain as she was causing the others. It was an option, a terrible but honest option and for better or worse he pushed it aside.

"Lyra..." he said standing again and looking down at her, his expression, what of it was readable, quite serious.
"When the nightmares are too much... when you have answered ALL the questions, even those whom have gone before. I want you to think about one more... IF...you could chose to fight another fight, if you could chose to help those you have hurt... would you..."

He turned and started walking away.

"I hope you have an answer before we meet again..."