I feel utterly worthless.
"You're a weed waving among the brick and stone."
See? Worthless.
"You ability to thrive truly has shown."
What .. do you mean?
"Your strength, my dear, I'm so proud you've grown!"
There among the bare gravel, where there's very little that's green, a lone dandelion is visited by a butterfly. -- Anon Guest
It's easy to devalue yourself when nobody else finds you worthy. It's easy to not wish to be part of a world that hates you for drawing breath. It's therefore no shock that a Hellkin found herself on the edge of a cliff, pondering the fast and deadly path to the bottom.
Truce almost got the life scared out of her by a voice behind her. "Long way down."
"Why do you care?" she snapped. She'd almost leaped to her death without any deeper thought into the matter than unadulterated panic. Nobody had cared about her existence before today, and she doubted this stranger cared about her at all. She suspected that, in a moment, she would hear all about how her presence was polluting the purity of the picturesque view.
"I live in a set of caves under this cliff. Picking up dead bodies from the bottom is grim, messy, and smelly work. I'd really rather you didn't give me more of the same. Besides, you're not going to give them the satisfaction, are you?"
It was in the way he said 'them' that sparked her curiosity enough to remain where she was, instead of indulging her usual habit of distancing herself from him and anyone like him. "You know about them, then."
A smile that had more pain behind it than joy. "Bastard son of the town's last exile. People like you and me? We're like weeds in the stone pit."
"Worthless, ugly, and unwanted?" asked Truce.
"Growing and flourishing in spite of everything," he gave her a tired look. "And with, I believe, an unappreciated beauty."
"Are you coming on to me?"
"Is it working?"
She wasn't exactly in a position to be picky, but... "What's in it for you if it is?"
"A life saved. The potential for company. I don't get much in the way of social contact and... I think you don't either. People who come up here? They're lost to the rest of the town. Outcast. Reviled. I... wanted to try saving a fellow forlorn from a short, sharp end."
"Forlorn," said Truce, "and weeds in the stone pit. Any other choice words you have to replace flattery?"
"Only an offer," he said. "Come down from the edge with me and I'll show you how wonderful some weeds can be."
Eh. It was better than a fast and painful end. Truce followed him away from the edge.
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