[Lexa is not here to drink or to mourn, as she'll never be able to shake the fact that losing one of their own is nothing short of a violation of their connections to one another. She never knew the man lost. For all that Lexa argues that they must keep one another alive and do anything to ensure that, it doesn't come from a place of good will and determination to make sure that everyone is alive. It comes from a utilitarian desire to avoid times like this, where she can feel the frayed edges of her mind trying to rectify that feeling. She doesn't like that she feels gutted and unstable. She doesn't like feeling driven to care for someone whose face and name she knew, but never interacted with personally.
During the procession, she acts differently, acts as if she cares, but there's a distance in her mind that's clearly there to help her adjust and to maintain control.
It becomes easier as she takes note of the newcomers. Her mind pushes against theirs curiously, and she does little to hide it. Right now, it's a much-needed distraction while the feelings of despair wash over her.
When Seth speaks out against her, she merely rumbles with a restrained amusement in response.]
You'll find that people are less than willing to do that. Before long, your tongue will feel foreign to you. I suggest you adapt. ["Or die." Though she isn't being so morbid here, but isn't that the obvious end result of a refusal to adapt? She knows she had to change, had to evolve, lest she end up another example of an individual without a brood to hold her up.]
hyrypia
During the procession, she acts differently, acts as if she cares, but there's a distance in her mind that's clearly there to help her adjust and to maintain control.
It becomes easier as she takes note of the newcomers. Her mind pushes against theirs curiously, and she does little to hide it. Right now, it's a much-needed distraction while the feelings of despair wash over her.
When Seth speaks out against her, she merely rumbles with a restrained amusement in response.]
You'll find that people are less than willing to do that. Before long, your tongue will feel foreign to you. I suggest you adapt. ["Or die." Though she isn't being so morbid here, but isn't that the obvious end result of a refusal to adapt? She knows she had to change, had to evolve, lest she end up another example of an individual without a brood to hold her up.]