In the cold, stale air of the cabin, with the scent of cooked fish still in the air and dry blood staining the elf's fingertips, Kagan's will seemed to force him to a point, a place where he took the risk and saw himself for a moment the way she did. The way she must have.<br/><br/>"I'm not going to yell at you," he said in a voice barely above a whisper. "Nothing is wrong with you, and you can decide when you are ready to live for your own dreams." He took one of her bloodied hands in his. "I can't promise we'll live that long, or that I'll always be the friend you need... But don't let anyone, even me, push you. It's time to stand. I won't bully you, and I'll only carry you when you ask me to."<br/><br/>Sinking back into his common mood, the orc let go of her hand with a mild shrug. "So, tomorrow morning I'm gonna go towards the border. You can come with me, or you can return to Tannow - or go in some whole other direction. And, whatever you choose, I'll be proud of you."