Vahvuus winces, a certain tension flaring over shoulders and back, one that had only been hinted at before. He knows he should answer honestly, but the fear is creeping back in, fueling his reluctance. Honesty just led to disappointment before- the rise and fall of hope, a feeling he's too unaccustomed to for it to be a reliable sensation.

Just brush it off, his instincts whisper. And of course another, darker voice hisses obey, obey like always and he can't figure out if the urge to answer in truth or because Sorey asked for it. He wrestles with it, resents that feeling of uncertainty.

"I know you don't know all the rules," is his reply, facing out towards the ocean rather than the exorcist at his side, "But I wish that you did. I can't be anything until I know what I am allowed to become."

The questions haunt him, even when he tries to dodge clear: who is he? Who was he, if anyone? Is he meant to be serf and slave to the Abbey's orders, or a person with thoughts and desires like Sorey keeps telling him?

How long until it all comes crashing down around them? Until Sorey inevitably has to make a choice? Because he's already getting the impression that Sorey will choose duty above all else. A kind heart doesn't change the importance of one's mission.