Page 169 - Fourth Wing
P. 169
“My self-what?” I turn around, my jaw dropping.
“People die,” he says slowly, his jaw ticking before he drags in a deep
breath. “It’s going to happen over and over again. It’s the nature of what
happens here. What makes you a rider is what you do after people die. You
want to know why you’re still alive? Because you’re the scale I currently
judge myself against every night. Every day I let you live, I get to convince
myself that there’s still a part of me that’s a decent person. So if you want to
quit, then please, spare me the temptation and fucking quit. But if you want
to do something, then do it.”
“I’m too short to span the distance!” I hiss, uncaring that anyone could
hear us.
“The right way isn’t the only way. Figure it out.” Then he turns and walks
away.
Fuck. Him.
