[The blackest mark Myr counts against Niles--the one that drives him to wish the Chimera's death even when he rejects Niles' suffering as undeserved--is that they'd lost so much progress. The total extent of that loss hadn't even been obvious to the faun until this dismal breakfast where his Bonded sits contemplating whether a poisoning would be a kinder, quieter end. Glimpses of the parallels between the haven he'd constructed for his Witch and the crippling prison L had grown up in serve to turn Myr's stomach further. How could I have not noticed? How could we have gone so wrong?

Despite the sodden lump of misery in his gut, Myr picks up his own piece of bread and begins buttering it methodically. Some comforting fantasies need doing away with; have from the start, if he had not been too soft-hearted and partial to realize that.]

I'd hear them both, even so. Lay them out for me.

Then I'll give you my reasoning on the matter and we'll see what conclusions we draw.

[And as L makes that exposition, Myr will eat his piece of bread with the same grim determination of a man with his last meal.]