"If everything is perfect, what is there left to strive for? Is that it? Or is it more that if something is perfection then it will never be anything other than the same?" it's mostly idle musing as they walk. He has always thought about things like this, though he certainly thinks about them more these days. There's not a lot to do out in far reaches of things than stare up at the stars and think. He doesn't consider himself a philosopher, though-- in the end, he'd rather be doing, at least most of the time.
Which is precisely why he manages a somewhat graceful cartwheel (he's limber enough for it, but it's been a while since he was doing it with no battle applications) into one of the fields of flowers, where he does, indeed, end up on his back, looking up at the sky. There's a flurry of petals around him when he does it, but no one around seems to notice, or care. It doesn't seem like the flowers are particularly important here. (Which in his opinion is all the more reason to enjoy them.)
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2022-01-07 11:17 pm (UTC)Which is precisely why he manages a somewhat graceful cartwheel (he's limber enough for it, but it's been a while since he was doing it with no battle applications) into one of the fields of flowers, where he does, indeed, end up on his back, looking up at the sky. There's a flurry of petals around him when he does it, but no one around seems to notice, or care. It doesn't seem like the flowers are particularly important here. (Which in his opinion is all the more reason to enjoy them.)