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[hostileterritory]

"This is David. Leave a message."

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[hostileterritory]

He knows those are words. They're sentences. They have objective meaning, he understands what she's saying in terms of information. But it's oddly meaningless at the same time.

He has to search for something to say.

"That's a nice thought."

[viking_seer]

"Not always," she says back, because he might as well have blessed her heart. She doesn't hold it against him, not hardly, but while he might think this is the sort of thought that you'd embroider on a pillow or hang in a frame, for her? This concept is life and death. Had been. Probably will be for the rest of her life.

"It's hard to escape a narrative, especially when it seems like everything lines up just right to send you where you don't want to go. It's one thing for the universe to just be unfair but a narrative implies there's a logic to it. A real double-edged sword."

[hostileterritory]

David has no idea what to say to that, honestly. His face stays politely attentive. Somehow this part of what she's saying makes more sense than the first part did. The helplessness of it, that's familiar. He's just not sure why she wants him to hear this part--it seems counterproductive to what her job is supposed to be.

But what does he know. He's not the warden.

"Yes, ma'am."

[viking_seer]

"Which is why you get a warden," she continues smoothly. "A co-author. Someone to help you find a new path. A new story for yourself."

She offers a crooked half-smile.

"And I'm apparently pretty good at that. Not that I expect you to believe that before we've even gotten started."

[hostileterritory]

A slightly longer pause. "Yes, ma'am."

Because... well. She has conviction and plenty of it, it seems like. He doesn't particularly want to argue with her about it, not when their situation is temporary.

[viking_seer]

She can't help but smile a little at that.

"You're sweet," she says. "But I'm hoping I earn that faith."