Bull huffs out a breath, shakes his head, pauses, then shakes his head again. Sure he's got questions but the idea of asking about any of it, of even deciding which one to ask-- He stops himself from thinking about it, keeps trying to relax. It's not something that he's prepared to get into, that's all.
"Asking that's kind of like throwing a guy in the ocean and then asking if he wants to get told how to swim," he says, exasperated. "I don't know. It's... I don't know."
Any other day he'd try to turn the conversation to the other guy instead, but he's so out at sea here he doesn't even know how to do that. Six sisters who sew and if he knew what Aden even is, where he came from, he'd know what that meant to him, understand if that 'stars know' turn of phrase means anything because you can tell something about someone depending on whether they say 'Maker's breath' or 'Andraste's tits' or whatever else, but none of it means anything here, all this information is here and coming in but it's all bullshit and none of it actually means anything.
He takes a slow breath, again, and watches Adan fix what the Bull cut out. The most he can do right now is try not to think about it, spend as long as he can focusing on something else. That 'tools' comment, that one at least means something. Little easier to relax around the guy after hearing that; reminds him of home, the parts of home that'd worked, the kind of perspective he's usually the one talking about, as long as he doesn't mention where he got that perspective from. Other people don't want to hear about the 'good parts' of the Qun any more than he wants to talk about them. Not sure if he can trust it, that urge to relax just because Aden said something that Bull kind of liked, but at least it might make a tiny piece of all this tension a little bit easier to let go.
"I uh... I'm going to need something to do after this, though," he admits, because it's not like he's going to come off like he's got his shit together now. Might as well go all in. "Don't think I'm going to do so well unless I can figure out how to keep busy. Think I went through the uh, the carriage with those dummies though, and the whole thing didn't look like much. Or it was, uh-- I don't know. What do you guys even do all cooped up in here? You just sew and read and try not to lose your minds, or what?"
no subject
"Asking that's kind of like throwing a guy in the ocean and then asking if he wants to get told how to swim," he says, exasperated. "I don't know. It's... I don't know."
Any other day he'd try to turn the conversation to the other guy instead, but he's so out at sea here he doesn't even know how to do that. Six sisters who sew and if he knew what Aden even is, where he came from, he'd know what that meant to him, understand if that 'stars know' turn of phrase means anything because you can tell something about someone depending on whether they say 'Maker's breath' or 'Andraste's tits' or whatever else, but none of it means anything here, all this information is here and coming in but it's all bullshit and none of it actually means anything.
He takes a slow breath, again, and watches Adan fix what the Bull cut out. The most he can do right now is try not to think about it, spend as long as he can focusing on something else. That 'tools' comment, that one at least means something. Little easier to relax around the guy after hearing that; reminds him of home, the parts of home that'd worked, the kind of perspective he's usually the one talking about, as long as he doesn't mention where he got that perspective from. Other people don't want to hear about the 'good parts' of the Qun any more than he wants to talk about them. Not sure if he can trust it, that urge to relax just because Aden said something that Bull kind of liked, but at least it might make a tiny piece of all this tension a little bit easier to let go.
"I uh... I'm going to need something to do after this, though," he admits, because it's not like he's going to come off like he's got his shit together now. Might as well go all in. "Don't think I'm going to do so well unless I can figure out how to keep busy. Think I went through the uh, the carriage with those dummies though, and the whole thing didn't look like much. Or it was, uh-- I don't know. What do you guys even do all cooped up in here? You just sew and read and try not to lose your minds, or what?"