Arkham considered the quote, but was surprised that anyone should actually exist to uphold its ideal. It was too surreal, too idealistic, and the last several months had made him more and more cynical. He didn't really feel like all that much time had passed, but childhood was already just a memory. A symbolic blindfold and a superhero's guise; it was something fresh out of the faded color pages of a comic book, and he almost wanted to laugh. The world was not so easy to divide. It was not made of only good and evil. The coyote liked to believe that he was a decent person, that he had been raised okay and that he had morals, but the truth was that he couldn't be sure. Darkness seemed to run in his blood, and he couldn't deny that without lying.
That's noble of you,
he said quietly, I don't think I can judge easily enough to be effective.
His family was full of murderers. His family was full of liars and thieves and twisted minds. But they had cared for him, and they had protected him. They had taught him relevant things, and even though he had effectively abandoned them, he knew they were still his family. No metaphoric chasm or physical distance would ever change that. Some people had reasons. Some didn't, but it wasn't really their fault. He couldn't judge those people, especially not when they were kin.