Ros was never true to himself or anyone else - of course the bowl was full of soup because he deluded himself into thinking that he wanted that, some cardboard concoction he could barely taste in the first place, and not what his body needed. Nathan was right, though, and yet he still rolled his eyes - this had merely been a gesture of good will. "I will, when you're sleeping. Don't worry. I need to get around to it first, and I think I'll need a bit." The thought alone made him wince, though. Ros had truly, formidably, become soft and picky, and even as he drank the bowl empty in one go, he knew that wasn't what he needed at all. He needed to be back in one piece soon, able to make all of it work for himself, lest it would probably hurt him even more if he just kept on fighting with a clammoring hole in his chest, rightmost from where all the vital organs sat. This was, in any case, not a good thing to have to deal with, wasn't that it? "I'm just wondering if I should try and be as human, as normal, about it as possible or if I'd waste the meat if I just put it in a pan and cooked it through. I fear I know the answer." Was this about texture or being uppity about something he couldn't control? Ros didn't know, and he never wished to actually question it thorougly.
As Nathan turned into some sort of pupa, he reminded himself that they both were exhausted, strained and bent into a multitude of shapes and forms and definitely drained from all that they had done in the hornets nest - as Nate called it - yesterday. "You apologized enough, stop that." It was both of their fault and asking one another for forgiveness was like asking a dog why he demolished a pillow - it led nowhere, simply because there was no common language to speak here. "Yes? The kissing part? Surprised I didn't bite right into him? He tastes like shit." There was nothing that followed that, yet he could hardly blame the spent man for these endeavors. Alas, he was only going to find out what any of this meant if it went onward and upward. "Mh. I mean, you know me, right? Think about it. Did I use magic when we first met, like, at all? I think you'll find your answer there." It wasn't an inborn thing at all, and Ros' magic was among the weakest things he had access to. Naturally, it sucked and then it sucked more when he actually needed it. Well, that happened to the best of them at least. "So it is the radius. He had that thing on him when we were alone in a room, and I felt like lead for a bit, kind of ... drugged, in a sense?", Ros explained his own symptoms away. "I'd assume so. Whereas your magic is your thing, the thing that keeps you afloat anyway, it's not that bad for me ... and no, you're fine in that regard. You just look really, really tired. Like a hundred-year adult. I guess you're still hurt, anyhow. Do you want a hot-water bottle? You're shaking like a newborn deer."
As Nathan turned into some sort of pupa, he reminded himself that they both were exhausted, strained and bent into a multitude of shapes and forms and definitely drained from all that they had done in the hornets nest - as Nate called it - yesterday. "You apologized enough, stop that." It was both of their fault and asking one another for forgiveness was like asking a dog why he demolished a pillow - it led nowhere, simply because there was no common language to speak here. "Yes? The kissing part? Surprised I didn't bite right into him? He tastes like shit." There was nothing that followed that, yet he could hardly blame the spent man for these endeavors. Alas, he was only going to find out what any of this meant if it went onward and upward. "Mh. I mean, you know me, right? Think about it. Did I use magic when we first met, like, at all? I think you'll find your answer there." It wasn't an inborn thing at all, and Ros' magic was among the weakest things he had access to. Naturally, it sucked and then it sucked more when he actually needed it. Well, that happened to the best of them at least. "So it is the radius. He had that thing on him when we were alone in a room, and I felt like lead for a bit, kind of ... drugged, in a sense?", Ros explained his own symptoms away. "I'd assume so. Whereas your magic is your thing, the thing that keeps you afloat anyway, it's not that bad for me ... and no, you're fine in that regard. You just look really, really tired. Like a hundred-year adult. I guess you're still hurt, anyhow. Do you want a hot-water bottle? You're shaking like a newborn deer."
Looking back, it maybe is like the toy carts you rode when you were a kid. But those toy carts could never go beyond the walls of the lawn. We want to follow the rugged concrete road beyond the wall. As we've grown, we've decided to leave behind the toy cart.