I've got a splinter that I can't get out. It's killing me and affecting my duty."
"Uh-huh." I examined the minuscule speck that could be dirt.

We don't take orders from you, Sergeant." Quain said. "Your man tried to assassinate-"
"He isn't mine. My man has eyes that change color with the seasons.

But they fight in the name of the creator."
"I don't care if they fight in the name of broccoli. The goal remains the same.

Good food, fresh water, and an occasional sweet and someone to care for. That's what everyone should have. A simplistic and unrealistic view I knew, but it soothed me.

I peered deeper and found my soul. A little tattered and with some holes, but there all the same. It had always been there, I realized with shock.

Hasn’t stopped us before. And besides, if they wanted to kill us, we’d be dead by now and would be having an entirely different conversation. I wonder if I’d still be mad at you, or if we would talk in words or pictures. Maybe in smells. That would be cool.” -Janco