"But they're not more of themselves, are they?" he snaps, harsher than he'd intended, but with enough anger behind it not to rein the spike of temper back. The soft nostalgia is gone; returned is the simmering resolve and cold fury that had defined him for so long.

"What use would daydreaming of what might have happened done for me? Or do you, as well as Wreath, think that I've done them more harm than good by trying to save them?"