.15.
The soul wonders why she does not look at it during their next encounter. The Carrier, being her sassy self, shoots right back, asking why it is still there. It complains about being serious, sadness tainting it voice as it speaks. She wish… she wish she could sooth the sadness away, touch the soul until it has no choice but to smile and laugh. Shocked, she shakes her head. She has not wished for that in a long, long, time.
Please, it begs silently.
She admits that she is scared.
The unexpected response echoes (of what) silently, the soul's voice impossible to decipher. The Carrier thinks, and thinks, and has to think some more. I do not know, she finally says. She pointedly ignores the little part of her whispering ancient words about love.