[You couldn't be honest if your dead mother paid you.
It's meant for Sanji - but Baren stops in his tracks too, the look of surprise washing over his face. There's no judgment, rather there's only an open moment of distress as if he's the one who's been found out—
And then the tree is ash. Baren wonders if he blinks and the rest of the forest will be in flames - and something in his chest aches at the idea. People need the wood from these trees, once whatever curse on them is lifted. Something in his ribcage twists as he reaches out to Sanji's shoulder and in a calmness to contrast Sanji's rage:]
The villagers don't need you destroying all their firewood, Sanj.
no subject
It's meant for Sanji - but Baren stops in his tracks too, the look of surprise washing over his face. There's no judgment, rather there's only an open moment of distress as if he's the one who's been found out—
And then the tree is ash. Baren wonders if he blinks and the rest of the forest will be in flames - and something in his chest aches at the idea. People need the wood from these trees, once whatever curse on them is lifted. Something in his ribcage twists as he reaches out to Sanji's shoulder and in a calmness to contrast Sanji's rage:]
The villagers don't need you destroying all their firewood, Sanj.
[Sense, logic, rationality. Long-term consequences. Maybe that'll appeal.
Even as the trees seem to laugh at them, now poking fun at Baren.]
Are those the calculating, manipulative methods your mother dearest taught you? It figures that this is all you'd be able to amount to.
[Baren's hand on Sanji's shoulder tightens once - automatically, uncomfortably - before he pulls it away.]