[ humans should not be so willing to walk into the darkness. she could have found someone who had chosen the other path, and cried to them. why me? he seems to be asking, without the depth of self-awareness. ]

I really don't understand.

[ any of her; what she says, does or chooses -- was he the first one she'd spotted? had he rejected her completely, would she have turned her wobbling voice upon another? the muttered words herald the way he turns his face from her, to hide the conflict in his eyes; perhaps some men could say they had a weakness for a woman's tears, but not him. not with how many women he had slaughtered, especially the ones who had reminded him of isis -- isis, with enough tears to fill the nile and the will to persevere no matter the horrors she'd lived.

ugh. ]

-- you'll do one thing for me, then. In exchange for my guardianship -- [ he points to her hair; it's so pale, so bright! he can tell it is not wig. ] Teach me how you do your hair.