There is no need to sit and stare at her while she contemplates all this, so Break simply keeps going with his breadmaking, his hands moving deftly as he kneads. It's his omen who pays Echo real attention during this quiet interlude. However, despite the fact that the dog is a spectral shadow thing with glowing white eyes and an awful lot of teeth wrapped around that pineapple, Baltus has much less of a dangerous atmosphere around him than Break does. Of course Baltus will keep an eye on her; he knows what Break knows. But despite not being an actual dog at all, even outside of being an omen -- Baltus is a churchyard grim -- it suits him to be perceived as such. Break can be the cunning schemer. Baltus is simply here to help.
Or to troll the ever-loving shit out of Break, should the opportunity present itself.
When she finally does speak up again, Break glances at her -- and makes a face, having missed the point entirely. He isn't fully aware that to Echo, simply living a life is strange, despite the fact that the omni and other such things have certainly thrown him for a loop, too. He's been here too long, and his thoughts go instead to all the obnoxious psychological trials and grisly ways to die that Trench presents on a daily basis.
"It's not so terrible as it could be," he says, grudgingly. He sounds as though he's admitting something annoying. "You'll find that, in an overwhelming majority, the Sleepers -- those like us -- are terribly eager to help one another. If they're not reaching out to complete strangers, they're building safehouses to flock to in the event of...I don't know, whatever relevant terrible thing."
And it's contagious, too. Break has felt it his own duty to pay all those early kindnesses forward now that he's settled in, and he's been so preoccupied with turning his own house into a safe place for his kids and favorites that the house itself has caught on.
no subject
Or to troll the ever-loving shit out of Break, should the opportunity present itself.
When she finally does speak up again, Break glances at her -- and makes a face, having missed the point entirely. He isn't fully aware that to Echo, simply living a life is strange, despite the fact that the omni and other such things have certainly thrown him for a loop, too. He's been here too long, and his thoughts go instead to all the obnoxious psychological trials and grisly ways to die that Trench presents on a daily basis.
"It's not so terrible as it could be," he says, grudgingly. He sounds as though he's admitting something annoying. "You'll find that, in an overwhelming majority, the Sleepers -- those like us -- are terribly eager to help one another. If they're not reaching out to complete strangers, they're building safehouses to flock to in the event of...I don't know, whatever relevant terrible thing."
And it's contagious, too. Break has felt it his own duty to pay all those early kindnesses forward now that he's settled in, and he's been so preoccupied with turning his own house into a safe place for his kids and favorites that the house itself has caught on.