Well … only …
There’s an odd conundrum for me in what you say here. I … kind of want to agree, because I think you’re usually right, but, I also think you might be making people something other than they are.
We’re not really rational actors. You know that already, I think. Am I wrong about that? … Either way, I think, it’s true.
I like the taste of blood. I miss the hunt. … I enjoy the feel of it. I want to feel that way again.
I really feel that way.
But I think it wears at my soul to do such things. I don’t want to be … something terrible.
I really feel that way, too.
Sometimes I ask the Praefecta about something related to that, kind of hoping and at the same time fearing that she’ll choose to turn me loose. More often than not, she’s kept me close.
I’m grateful for that.
At the time I swore my service to her, there were a few people (mostly Gallente, which I’m not sure what to think of except I don’t think they were trying to flatter me) making remarks about how maybe some people just naturally need to be ordered around. … I don’t think that’s true, exactly, but I do think I make a better follower than a leader, and, also, I want to be a better person than I might always care about being, in the moment.
To that end, I don’t mind accepting a hood and jesses, even if it means my talons will grow dull from disuse and my taste for blood won’t be slaked very often.
Maybe you’ll say that was my desire and choice. But it’s a desire to stop choices I knew I’d probably otherwise make, based on other desires. Almost precisely, I looked at what I was becoming, and said to the Praefecta, “You need to not let me!”
Maybe people do such things more often than you think.