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He didn’t mind waiting as such, but waiting in crowds was pure torture. His family would never understand, but Zorian hated crowds. It wasn’t any tangible thing, really—it was more like large gatherings of people projected some kind of presence that weighed down on him constantly.
There might be no right answer, but Zorian knew from experience that there was always a wrong answer.
know our kind looks frightening to your eyes, but please stop thinking of me as some slavering beast out to eat you or a sadist intending to torture you into insanity for absolutely no reason. We’re no worse than humans, really.] [I’m not sure that sets me at ease. Humans can be pretty horrible,] Zorian pointed out.
You are what you do, and if I were to start doing stupid things just because there is seemingly no consequence for them, those actions would eventually come to define me.
“It's not the same because I'm a girl…”
One thing Zorian found interesting about the restarts was that small, seemingly inconsequential choices exerted incredible influence on what happened in the restart.
“Show-off,” he said. He was definitely learning how to do that himself one of these days.