[He snorts softly at that, but pours Noct a glass nonetheless.]
Is that how it works? Well, perhaps you are right.
[Barnham's admittedly not had much cause to drink before this, though he'd join his men on occasion in the tavern. But... like this it's something completely different.
This is to cope, and it doesn't feel all that great.
Not that anything does in this hell hole, of course, but Barnham's at least critically aware that he's hardly doing himself any favors here. (Why is he even here--what is he even doing here? Is someone taking some sort of amusement from this?)]
That child... Russell. When he arrived, he had no desire to live. He did not care what happened to him, and I felt that was... concerning.
[Barnham pinches the bridge of his nose.]
... Last night, he was afraid for his life. He learned to care if he lived or died--
no subject
Is that how it works? Well, perhaps you are right.
[Barnham's admittedly not had much cause to drink before this, though he'd join his men on occasion in the tavern. But... like this it's something completely different.
This is to cope, and it doesn't feel all that great.
Not that anything does in this hell hole, of course, but Barnham's at least critically aware that he's hardly doing himself any favors here. (Why is he even here--what is he even doing here? Is someone taking some sort of amusement from this?)]
That child... Russell. When he arrived, he had no desire to live. He did not care what happened to him, and I felt that was... concerning.
[Barnham pinches the bridge of his nose.]
... Last night, he was afraid for his life. He learned to care if he lived or died--
[... Just in time to die.
Dammit.]
He was just a child.