[ Ah. Trahearne's gaze settles on the boy, studying him for a moment in sympathy.
There are more undead where he comes from? That makes sense, in a way. A part of him wants to readily say "yes" to placate him, but he considers the Risen. Not for a moment would he consider the Risen people--only abominations controlled by Zhaitan's will. Even those with elevated intelligence. They were monsters.
Perhaps the undead in the boy's world are different. ]
If they are like you, then they are people.
When we met, you didn't talk or write. But you learned. You are people, just as you were then.
[ He thinks for a moment, as this might get complicated, then quickly adds: ]
no subject
There are more undead where he comes from? That makes sense, in a way. A part of him wants to readily say "yes" to placate him, but he considers the Risen. Not for a moment would he consider the Risen people--only abominations controlled by Zhaitan's will. Even those with elevated intelligence. They were monsters.
Perhaps the undead in the boy's world are different. ]
If they are like you, then they are people.
When we met, you didn't talk or write. But you learned. You are people, just as you were then.
[ He thinks for a moment, as this might get complicated, then quickly adds: ]
I have a story for you. Would you like to read?