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[worldisyours]

WELCOME TO YOUR PRIVATE CHANNEL, RINDO KANADE. FOR SECURE COMMUNICATION, USE 4.28.13.9 *** rindragon has joined 4.28.13.9

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[familyproblem]

[The severity falls off of Gladion's expression.

That day was strange, in one of those beyond-the-pale Ryslig ways. Most things having to do with feeding are. They belong to another world that you can't quite peer into until you're inside.

The urge to brush the sentiment off runs up against the...untouchability of that day. He can't downplay it, or he upsets something...kind of sacred?

Rindo is right.]

...We are.

[Looks at his arm, where little ferns and mosses sprout from him, roots sandwiched between dermal layers. Glances - mostly with his eyes, not his head - at the different silhouette of leaves along Rindo's wrist. Fine differences that only seem, to him, to prove their similarities. Not unlike looking into Silvally's eyes. Very different with a human (...close enough), though.

...

This might be a bad time to get into it, but when's a good time?]

It doesn't feel fair.

[It's not just him, right?]

[worldisyours]

[It's not the first time fairness comes up with Gladion. The concept has a way of pulling emotions out of Rindo that he'd rather keep suppressed, for his own sanity. It's not fair—a childish and pointless protest against the new reality of his life. But… when shared, maybe it is a little cathartic, and maybe it helps push back against loneliness. Just a little.]

…It really doesn't.

[He looks down, wringing his hands. He feels like he should say something more. Maybe something about the dizzying relief of realizing he would not have to kill, followed immediately by the gut-wrenching guilt of outsourcing his sustenance to Swallow and her housemates, balanced against the logic of there would be no point in going for your own kills anyway even if you wanted to.

…]

I'm… not happy to be a Nymph, but…

[But… you get it, right?]

[familyproblem]

But— [he responds so quickly, voice almost overlapping Rindo's, like he's trying to continue his sentence—] it's like...

[...]

We can't exactly complain. [Said not in a scolding way; he glances over and lifts an eyebrow, wry, uncertain, plenty willing to talk loftily about gods and responsibility but still tentative about the little suggestion that maybe he gets it too.]

[worldisyours]

[…Even with common ground, it's still hard to talk about killing people, especially with the implied fact that the burden of it falls onto others' shoulders.]

…Yeah. We don't do the hardest part.

[Rindo speaks tentatively, with his gaze still lowered, his words in the shape of a question. He doesn't actually know… he just assumes. It only makes sense, with Gladion living with two hunters.]