“I suppose it’s a kind of goodbye then.” “It’s not, Mal! You’ll still be you—and I’ll still be here. You said it yourself, didn’t you? You said, He’s a guardian.” He had not been clear, until this moment, what that meant: It meant this feeling. It meant burning to keep watch, for that which needed to be watched. It meant burning to keep it safe. It meant a ferocious and careful love.
