[That question feels, to him, like being taken to task for woolgathering. And there is yet one holdover from the man he once was, even though he does not know it; the knowledge that he should be the one who says things like that, not hears them. Chastened, ashamed of his own cowardly procrastination, he reaches for one of the memories blindly, pulls at it, meaning to cut it out at the root-]
[He reached for the memory of Rolad's father, found his mother instead. He found the shock, found the overwhelming horror, found her hands still holding that gift, and how badly stained it is, now-]
[He comes back to himself huddled in a distant corner of the boy's mind. It is Roland who could have chosen, perhaps, whether to say what he says next. The shadow, in his current form, has no such choice.]
no subject
[He reached for the memory of Rolad's father, found his mother instead. He found the shock, found the overwhelming horror, found her hands still holding that gift, and how badly stained it is, now-]
[He comes back to himself huddled in a distant corner of the boy's mind. It is Roland who could have chosen, perhaps, whether to say what he says next. The shadow, in his current form, has no such choice.]
Please, please no more. No more of this.