His eyes snap shut, tightly, and his mouth presses into a line. First, his frightened, uncertain hands cling severely to the edge of the counter, but then those newly bandaged things come up to cradle Al's own hands.
''I couldn't blame you,'' he says, weeping in the quietest way of it. ''I am a tiring thing. I know it. See, I couldn't at all blame you if you did feed me to wolves.''
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Date: 2012-11-15 04:49 am (UTC)''I couldn't blame you,'' he says, weeping in the quietest way of it. ''I am a tiring thing. I know it. See, I couldn't at all blame you if you did feed me to wolves.''