[Emet-Selch listens without interruption. All of it is logical, reasonable - and in Hythlodaeus's own words he can see that he has given the matter due consideration already. Emet-Selch won't ask for forgiveness nor approval. In fact, if Hythlodaeus instead saw fit to condemn him for his actions, he would not deny him that choice. Into the quiet there is acceptance.]

[Even as he speaks of Azem, Emet-Selch remains passive, though it's clear his posture has turned rigid, his jaw twitches as he bites down a retort, and his brow furrows ever lower. There is much he could say about Azem's decision to journey alone. It is a decision Emet-Selch could never have made, for his position and his own sense of responsibility would not have allowed it. To leave his brethren and throw the Convocation and the capital city into further chaos for no more than an inkling of a possibility which (apparently) had never been discovered... Foolishness.]

[He had wondered, though. On occasion.]

[If he had joined them, would it have made any difference? Could they have found this elusive third path?]

[He thinks not. He does not know.]

[Perhaps that goes some way to explaining the venom in his voice when he'd spoken of their abandonment. For even they had bid him stay.]

[It is not until the conversation turns back to Hythlodaeus himself that Emet-Selch abruptly sees fit to break his silence.]

"Inevitable"? Inevitable!

[His outrage seems quite out of proportion considering what little is being said.]

And what situation is that exactly? One thing you're no good at out of a hundred other possibilities. I'll not insult you by mentioning your obvious talents, but what of your wit, your patience, your loyalty? Your infuriating ability to laugh at everything and nothing both at the same time!

Did you think you were only tolerated? That I "blunted my thorns" and coddled you like some injured bird purely out of obligation?

Of course I didn't.