[Michael asks for all the reasons Wanda guesses, and more. He misses the constant presence of another that had come from sharing this body with a human soul. Conversation doesn't quite compare, but it fills some of the space. He'd be loathe to admit to something like simple curiosity, but he does want to know more about her, too. Maybe it will lead him to understand why her presence so comfortably occupies a space he'd thought reserved only for his brothers.
He does not mind the silence. While she considers her words, he finishes measuring out doses of powder and tips each into one of the empty bottles he's been given. When she does speak up he listens attentively, though his eyes stay on his task.
Empathy is not his most developed skill, but her history is—sad. Even if the human and angelic concept of family are not quite the same, Michael knows what it is to lose brothers, and sisters, and home alike. She didn't tell him any of this to solicit pity, however. He gets the impression she'd hate it as much as he would, so he doesn't offer any.
(Would she judge him harshly if she knew he has been many of his siblings' executioner? That much of his life has been devoted to bringing about a war intended to eradicate half of Earth's population?)]
I wouldn't disparage anyone trying to make a home of Solvunn. [He looks up long enough to give her an expression that's both sympathetic and chagrined.] Though, I am in much the same position as you.
[Which is to say: he might be biased.]
My family was at war with itself for... millennia. Now, my brothers are dead and our world is no more. I couldn't go back if I wanted to.
What do you know of the Apocalypse?
[Wanda does not seem particularly religious to him. Certainly not enough for him to worry that the implication that Heaven no longer exists would bother her at all. That does not mean that she has no knowledge or education in this field.]
no subject
He does not mind the silence. While she considers her words, he finishes measuring out doses of powder and tips each into one of the empty bottles he's been given. When she does speak up he listens attentively, though his eyes stay on his task.
Empathy is not his most developed skill, but her history is—sad. Even if the human and angelic concept of family are not quite the same, Michael knows what it is to lose brothers, and sisters, and home alike. She didn't tell him any of this to solicit pity, however. He gets the impression she'd hate it as much as he would, so he doesn't offer any.
(Would she judge him harshly if she knew he has been many of his siblings' executioner? That much of his life has been devoted to bringing about a war intended to eradicate half of Earth's population?)]
I wouldn't disparage anyone trying to make a home of Solvunn. [He looks up long enough to give her an expression that's both sympathetic and chagrined.] Though, I am in much the same position as you.
[Which is to say: he might be biased.]
My family was at war with itself for... millennia. Now, my brothers are dead and our world is no more. I couldn't go back if I wanted to.
What do you know of the Apocalypse?
[Wanda does not seem particularly religious to him. Certainly not enough for him to worry that the implication that Heaven no longer exists would bother her at all. That does not mean that she has no knowledge or education in this field.]