cakeIf there was one thing that Bane had learned so far about the pack wolf who sat with him, it was that he was an emotional man. This wasn't unusual: most people were emotional, it was what fueled them, what made them get up in the morning, what made them want to sleep at night. Bane had always felt this was a personal thing that the rest of the world shared, and he was outside, looking in through a dirty window. When he had been younger, this had bothered him, but now he had accepted it, and appreciated it for what it was: an advantage over everyone else. Even when he had been in love, there had never been a time when he wouldn't have done what needed to be done, even if it meant walking away with her blood on his hands. "It strengthens you," he replied, thinking of this. The strong would survive -- such was the way of life. To Bane, life was less of an endless struggle, and more of a comedy written to amuse those few who understood the subtlety of it all.
cakeLubomir's philosophical meanderings were thought-provoking enough; as Bane ate, chewing the meat slowly, he listened. He found he wasn't quite as hungry as he had been before; thought, to him, was something of a type of nourishment, and while it wouldn't keep him alive, it kept him busy. He waited in patience until the wolf finished speaking, and then paused for a moment as if to gather his thoughts. "Perhaps some do. These are things that have plagued wolves since we were given sentient thought." And Bane had listened to others dissect their theories. Never had he believed any of it. "I believe in Fate. I believe that when we are born, our lives are already laid out. It's not a question of how much time we have or whether we've lived enough; we have whatever time was allotted to us, and when we die, whatever hours or years we've had, whatever we've done with our time, it was what we were meant to do. It was our Destiny, our path, and every moment of every day, we fulfill a greater purpose." His voice was steady and calm in his musings, belying no emotion at all. If Bane lacked compassion, there was one thing he had always had: faith. "So you will see why I personally don't dwell on these things. It is foretold." And on his deathbed, he would regret nothing.
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