[ John knows that grace. He knows the lithe energy in fury, the sweet fire of it. It's been the only thing to keep him going, sometimes. He'd be a hell of a hypocrite to damn the man for it. ]

If wanting to hit a guy were enough to damn you, Hell would be pretty crowded. Peace is a choice you make. Sounds like you've been making the hard one for a while now.

[ He slouches there on the tree, his posture a quiet and unremarkable curve, as though to balance out Terry's angry prowl. ]

And it's not even about slugging the guy, right? Not down at the core of the thing. It's about having to smile to his face.