I am stubborn, [ he admits, and easily. it rolls off the tongue when talking about him, hand-in-hand with the old and the tall. ]

You knew from the start that I am deeply disturbed by the order of things here, and on that account I have not changed, I will not change.

[ to do so would be to change every bit of himself, and as much as he has yielded in thedas, bent with the coming storm, he has not broken. she knows him, she can see the tiredness that etches itself to how he must now devote attention to how he stands, to the extra measure of awareness of his limbs, the set of his shoulders.

he is still gentle with the peonies. ]

That is not negotiable. And for as long as I have known you, I assumed it would begin after your death.