[He sinks down, crouching before her, and sighs. Dave hadn't hoped for something better in quite a while. He lived in the moment, because thinking of the future made it easier to kill everyone with a mis-step. Better was living long enough to lay down for a moment to sleep. Better was his friends safe and sound.

They were things he made with his own two hands. His expression is stoic partly because he can't do much else. Partly because he wasn't wired in a way to handle a situation like this in any other way.]

You're just you. The bag isn't what makes the person. [He points to the soul swirling in little circles.] It's that.

The rest is just making the way, I guess. I don't really think about it too hard. I do what feels natural. Part of working with time, I guess. You can still move, still keep fighting if you want to.

They can take everything else, but that? That they just can't take from you. They can alter you for a time. But it never lasts.


If that helps any. [It's all he knows to say. Keep fighting. Even if the road is soaked in your own blood, it's your road.]