He has one of those moments where he is acutely aware of his options, and the need to make some decision stretches more and more tautly as the seconds tick by.
He could run after Prospero, an option totally lacking in dignity. He could try to detain him or catch his attention with magic, an option totally lacking in a commitment to being alive and not embedded in a cloven pine.*
Or he could, as he so often does, sit here.
And feel-- as he so often does-- that he's made the wrong choice.
*Incidentally, does cloven refer to cleaving, or was this some kind of clove-pine hybrid? More answers he is unlikely to get from Prospero.
Rather clipped: "Good evening to you, Master Jamison."
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He has one of those moments where he is acutely aware of his options, and the need to make some decision stretches more and more tautly as the seconds tick by.
He could run after Prospero, an option totally lacking in dignity. He could try to detain him or catch his attention with magic, an option totally lacking in a commitment to being alive and not embedded in a cloven pine.*
Or he could, as he so often does, sit here.
And feel-- as he so often does-- that he's made the wrong choice.
*Incidentally, does cloven refer to cleaving, or was this some kind of clove-pine hybrid? More answers he is unlikely to get from Prospero.
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