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‘End the war, lass’

‘What would I feel, Corlo?’

‘I could make you cry it out All out, Seren’ He met her eyes ‘And when that was done, you’d feel better Not much better, but some You release it all, but only once, I pro it all out, mind you Could be as traumatic as the rape itself But you won’t fall into the trap of cycling through it over and over again Release gets addictive, you see It becomes a fixed behaviour, as destructive as any other Keep repeating the exercise of grief and it loses a over anything, ever’

‘This sounds complicated, Corlo’

‘It is You stop the war all in one shot, and afterwards theA little remorse, maybe The sa your whole life Regrets, but no self-recrimination, because that’s your real ene like you so herself to speak

‘Making you want to punish yourself’

Another nod

Corlo raised his voice ‘Avoe auntleted hand

The troop halted

Corlo’s hands were there, helping her down frolared at him ‘You’ve started, haven’t you?’

‘No, lass You did Reot it by the bucketful’

‘I never cry,’ she said as he led her off the trail into the adjacent forest