Chapter 26
He saw the white, the riptide eyes.
"How are ya doin', As?" Deya asked as she returned from a hunting trip, no prey with her,
"Fine, I guess," She sat down beside him. Aspenpaw was strong enough to stand and walk around by now, but he hadn't had the motivation to do much since Rese died.
She knew that he killed his brother, and Aspenpaw had spent her final day in this world paranoid that she had told somebody, that Deya would find out.
It felt selfish, but the paranoia hadn't left, even now, three days after she passed.
Her body had been removed; Aspenpaw didn't bother to ask what was done with it.
Her nest was gone too, her scent with it, and now she was really gone.
He looked into Deya's eyes and saw how tired she looked, with cuts along her face that seemed new, and dirt staining some of her pelt, so far away from washing water.
The betrayal he felt hadn't gone away, and Aspenpaw wouldn't let himself become close to her again until he understood.
He hadn't decided whether or not it was best that he left this place and continued on his ultimate journey; to find peace somewhere.
It had been too long, and Aspenpaw finally let his mouth speak the words he had been intending for days and days, "Could we have a talk?"
Deya reacted viscerally, hanging her head down and laying her tail flat out behind her,
"I'm sorry," She whispered,
"I know," Aspenpaw couldn't help the hurt from spilling out, "Just let me understand, Deya," He implored, begging her to open up to him, and finally, she did.
She looked up again and her eyes had grown soft, impending tears, but she kept the strength in voice and began to speak,
"I was afraid after Apollo died. I was afraid and selfish. I, I didn't know what was gonna happen when we came here. Everythin' was just so broken, and, I wasn't worrying about, anyone else. I shouldn't have left ya there, I didn't-didn't think, I, I just, I didn't think. That's it. I just didn't think at all. And then, then you were g-gone, and I didn't think I'd ever see ya again. I'm so sorry, As! I shouldn't keep tryin' to impede in your life, I'm so sorry! You shouldn't-" Aspenpaw couldn't take anymore.
He lunged forward, and wrapped his body tightly around Deya's.
He was crying now too, their tears dripping down each other's back as they were caught in this wordless embrace.
It had been so long since they were so close to one another, and Aspenpaw breathed her in and clenched his muscles around her as if this was goodbye.
And how she trembled against him in turn, how she choked and cried in his pelt.
It didn't matter if anybody was looking at them; he didn't want to move.
There was no holding grudges now. Whatever mistakes she or he had made, their feelings trumped them supremely.
Aspenpaw leaned into her; he was tired of being alone.
They were both so tired, and now they were two bodies on the earth, so intensely tied, hair by hair.
Even the thoughts of Acornpaw vanished now.
Deya's body had been cold to the touch, out in the drafty day for so long, but that cold was forsaken now as their temperatures aligned.
Aspenpaw no longer held back his tears. The wars and the tragedies and the mistakes had eaten so much of their lives, their kithoods were never salvaged, but here, Aspenpaw cried all the tears he had meant to before.
Deya began to sniffle, but didn't pull back, if anything, only grabbing him tighter.
She knocked her head against his and softly licked his cheek.
Aspenpaw returned the gesture, gliding his tongues over her scars, making them glisten so beautifully despite the meaning they had been intended to hold.
He never closed his eyes, never shied away from that collage of beauty and pain that showed just as much on Deya's body as it did in her mind.
Aspenpaw opened his mouth, and opened his soul to her, the way this city had taught him, "As is just a nickname. My name is Aspenpaw,"
"Aspenpaw," It felt so strange to hear his given name after so long.
The last cat to address him with his clan name had been Rustheart, the night he abandoned the forest.
That night felt like a dream of another life.
He wasn't an apprentice of Riverclan, he wasn't a dutiful member of his clan fighting in the wars of suspicion and distrust between the four clans of the forest, and he hadn't been for a long time now.
His leader could no longer sway his paws to serve.
His Medicine Cat could no longer preach to his deaf ears.
His mentor could no longer order him around camp.
His friends could no longer play with him or engage in joyous conversations.
Rustheart could no longer soothe him in the night, while his eyes cast such conflicted contempt and love.
Loneheart could no longer look up with him at the painful, powerful sky, and feel their size together.
The laws of the clans didn't apply to him.
Starclan wasn't watching over him.
Acornpaw was still with him.
But it was with Deya that Aspenpaw belonged now.
Wherever the streets and forests led, together, they were home.
Aspenpaw stepped into the air for the first time since the storm.
He could only see now the damage it had done to this world.
The currents had carried away many low-level chinks off the walls, and the sidewalk, typically raised and smoothed compared to the street, was now in disarray, as if each raindrop had taken a piece of it with it,
"Does this place ever regrow, like the forest?" He asked as she helped him down to the flat ground of the street,
"I don't think so. Twolegs don't take much care of these parts, so I understand," Deya responded, "Now come on. There're colonnades not that far away," She tugged him with excitement, as if she had been waiting to show him this since she found it,
"I don't know what that means," Aspenpaw admitted,
"Buncha pillars, come on!" Aspenpaw ambled along beside her.
There were so many great holes in the street that they didn't need to watch for cars careening towards them.
Aspenpaw's muscles lightly screamed with the flexing of his legs to walk, and it was exceedingly sweltering today, but Deya's ebullience forged him forth.
In the distance, the silhouette of a cat padded in their direction through the haze of the humid day.
Aspenpaw silently nudged his partner and Deya fell back instantly at recognition of the situation.
She lowered her head submissively and Aspenpaw raised his own, though he wasn't sure if he had the confidence to sell the image.
The silhouette made form into a rather proud looking tom, well groomed and fed, likely aligned with one of their enemies.
Aspenpaw kept his head as straight as possible and fought all the weariness in his body to keep up the mirage of master and slave.
It disgusted him to assign those words to both himself and Deya.
They passed without interrogation, and once the tom was out of view, Aspenpaw had to stop to take a few breaths.
Deya rounded him and licked his forehead, a troubled, annoyed look in her eyes, "They're proliferating," She spat, "Every day, I see at least one new one. Hope'ly he gets smothered in this heat. Don't worry, there's water where we're goin',"
"Great, I don't think I've got anything left in me," They remained there for a few moments on high alert, Deya crouched a bit as if still playing the character of an ancilla.
The promise of water reinvigorated Aspenpaw, and he was soon back to his paws.
Every step in this place seemed to hold danger.
The pair continued down the blurry street for a few more minutes before the sound of rushing water was made clear to their ears.
Aspenpaw sped up, and soon discovered what Deya had meant.
He breathed into a clearing, a place meticulously fitted with red and beige stones.
There were indeed pillars, spaced evening apart from one another in a circle around, perhaps two building widths length in every direction.
All the pillars stood like legs to a ring that ran from each top, which connected to a larger roof that only barely covered the sky, and though there were cracks in many of them, no pillar had fallen in the storm.
In the perfect center of the clearing, a fountain spewed water, slightly overflowing from its containment, and Aspenpaw rushed forth to drink.
The water tasted metallic, and the shallow floor of the pool contained countless tiny stones.
It almost reminded him of a real river, though the stones, like everything else in the city, were perfectly uniform and symmetrical with one another, not a chip or malformation in any.
Aspenpaw had given up on contemplating how this was all possible a long time ago, but the way the fountain continuously pumped water without a source truly froze him in wonder,
"These are my favorite kinda places in the city," Deya spoke with a softness which Aspenpaw only heard when they were alone,
"There are more places like this?" He asked, simply amazed at the creation and the detail,
"Oh yeah," Deya said in an obvious tone, "Colonnades and promenades and plazas and statues. Twolegs love to create beautiful things,"
"Yeah," Aspenpaw wasn't quite as smitten with this place as she was. It was almost disturbing, the lack of variation in the land and skies.
At least the water couldn't be controlled; it would always be unpredictable.
Aspenpaw leaped down from where he had been perched on the rim of the reaming fountain and sat down beside Deya, who had drunk her fill and now bathed in the overflow to quell the true green-leaf day.
The water was cool and the shade was appreciated.
After the run-in with that tom earlier, Aspenpaw became instantly de-stressed and content, finally letting his body relax after all the emotional whipping he had endured in the past few days.
Deya looked just the same, her head to the sky and her eyes closed to feel the water run down her face.
Aspenpaw just stared at her for a time. His pupils grew wide as he reveled in her brilliance.
He didn't know that he had ever seen another cat this way.
The lines across her face, the dirt in her paws, the way her fur split in the fall of the water, all these imperfections were nothing but perfect to Aspenpaw.
Completely taken by the moment, and unsure of how to deal with these new emotions, the young tom involuntarily muttered, "You're beautiful,"
Deya took her head down and opened her eyes, shock revealing itself plainly.
Her body stiffened and she opened her mouth, but nothing came out.
Feeling awkward, Aspenpaw apologized, "I'm sorry," but Deya finally made noise and countered him,
"No, no, it-it's okay. It's okay," Aspenpaw felt ashamed of himself, but Deya soon continued, saying too, "I'm sorry. It's just, it's been a while since I heard that. I, thank you, As, really."
Aspenpaw re-met her gaze but couldn't find any more words to say.
He couldn't comprehend how it could have been such a long time since she heard those words, it just seemed so obvious to him.
Deya shifted closer and embraced Aspenpaw, "Did you mean that?" She asked, sounding insecure,
"Y-Yeah,"
"Don't my scars, don't they, bother you?"
"No," Aspenpaw responded bluntly and surely, "You, you're beautiful," He repeated in the daze of emotion, unsure of what else to say to describe how he felt.
Deya pulled back and looked sincerely into Aspenpaw's eyes, "I guess they failed then," She gave him a smile.
Aspenpaw tilted his head, and her composure instantly fell, just a bit, as she realized that she would have to explain what she meant.
Aspenpaw felt guilty again, wanting to stay in this moment as long as possible, but it always seemed that there was a darkness which crept into every part of their lives, "When you're enslaved, ya master'll of'en punish ya by clawin' your face. Makes ya less-less desirable or some'in,"
"I thought you were never-" Aspenpaw trailed off awkwardly,
"I wasn', but them toms always aim for your face in battles, jus' to, mark ya, and, yeah," It was obviously hard for Deya to talk about this.
She was right, as far as Aspenpaw had seen.
Most of the commune she-cats he had seen had scars of some kind on their face.
Rese had had a couple, and even Aranyer had one, though it was Deya who had, by far, had the most scars on any cat he had ever seen.
He didn't know what to say now. He was sure she wouldn't want him to say "I'm sorry" or something akin to it.
He wished he knew what he could do to make her feel better.
Nobody had taught him how to love.
Everything was just so confusing,
"What're ya thinkin' about?" Deya asked, seeing Aspenpaw in deep thought.
But he had no clear answer for her, and couldn't hold back his emotions as he shouted out,
"I don't know! Rese, and Aranyer, and, this war, an-and you. Nothing makes sense! How do we survive like this?"
"I don't know either," She placed her tail along his spine, "I guess we just have to stick by an' trust each otha," Trust each other. Aspenpaw kept so many secrets, things that would destroy their relationship.
He couldn't look in still puddles in fear that he would see his brother in his face,
"I think, I need to tell you some stuff,"
"I think I do too,"
There was a brief pause, and it was Deya who spoke first, "I told you a-a bit 'bout me and my brother, 'bout how we came here, and then, yeah," Aspenpaw nodded; he didn't want to make her repeat what she had said before.
Her brother had killed himself, and it still reigned over her life, just as Acornpaw's death did to him.
Deya shook her head slightly, "I wanna tell ya how I joined Apollo's commune. I don't wanna keep these things secret from you. Is that okay?"
"Yeah," Aspenpaw immediately responded, intrigued and invested in the stories of her life,
"When Erie died, I just sorta, went walkin'. We'd come here searchin' for a new life after ma went, but we didn't have nothin' when he died. I knew 'nough 'bout the city just from my ma, so I tried to just keep on my own, hide away in drains an' tires an' salvage yards. But I was still jus' a kit an', an' somebody found me,"
Deya closed her eyes at this point, and Aspenpaw was impressed by the bravery she had to tell him these painful memories.
He wondered if he could do the same when his time came,
"He was one o' them domins, o' course. He was, unequivocally stronger and faster than me, so I couldn't run, it didn't do me any good. For a while that tom just played with me; ran laps 'round an' drubbed me with sheathed paws, an' degraded me there for a while. It musta only been a few minutes I were runnin', but to the gods it felt like a whole lifetime!"
She opened her eyes again and looked softly down at Aspenpaw, who had moved slightly closer, wishing he could embrace but unsure of what her reaction would be,
"Yeah, he surely woulda taken me away and made me an ancilla, strip away all my essence, but a she-cat came to my defense and started wailin' on the tom! I tried to help, but I 'ardly knew how'ta unsheathed my claws. In the crossfire, I got me first one, this one,"
Deya lifted her tail from Aspenpaw's shoulder and pointed it the scar that run halfway across the left side of her chin,
"But my savior drove 'em off, I think he died a little ways 'way. But she did too, just a few minutes later. She never said anythin' to me, an' I tried to fetch 'er some water, but she was dead when I came back. Didn't even get to know 'er name,"
The story disturbed and frightened Aspenpaw so much, that even such young kits could be put through the annals of the world and get torn and tattered by others older and stronger than them,
"Don't remember mucha that night now, an' it was too dark to see what she looked like, but I's always thinkin' 'bout 'er. Anyway, I knew o' how scars were, what they symbolized and stuff, but I'd always been so 'fraid of that kinda permanence right on my face," Deya looked down in shame and admitted, "I gave myself a couple of these, just so toms would assume I was already owned and wouldn't mess with me anymore,"
She glazed his eyes to see his reaction, but Aspenpaw had no shock or awe in them.
He understood, and it made her a lot comfortable to continue reciting her history,
"Sometimes, some tom'd come up to me and just razer me 'cross the face, jus' 'cause he had a bad day're somethin', but they never chased me around again after that. I didn' know where else I could go, so I just wandered a few moons 'til winter started hitting. I'd gotten propositioned by a she-cat a little while before 'bout joinin' a commune, which I refused then, but she told me how to find one, an' I didn't have any good options anymore, so I followed the path to the nearest one and ended up in Apollo's custody. I think she assumed I was a fighter 'cause o' the scars, so she took me in without question, an' I had to live up to the role. As much as I hate 'er, if Rese wasn't beside me for my first few fights, I'd be long dead,"
Aspenpaw flinched at the mention of the powerful warrior, "But I got the 'ang of it, which means, it means I've killed cats, a couple of 'em. I hope you don' have to go through that,"
Aspenpaw couldn't appreciate the irony.
He was hiding such a dark secret from her, and he knew he wouldn't be able to tell her. It was one thing to kill in the heat of a battle, fighting for freedom; he was just a murderer,
"Then a few moons later you came 'ere," Deya smiled, but Aspenpaw couldn't return the gesture, "I never thought that all toms were evil, but you opened me up to a bigger world. I'm really sorry that I ever treated you like someone so, so different,"
"Could I-I, could I tell you who I am," Now Aspenpaw shut his eyes and turned his head in shame. He should have known it would be inevitably to open up, at least a little bit, but he didn't know what he could have ever done to prepare for this moment,
"Of course," Deya responded imploringly, and Aspenpaw took a deep breath, before hesitating for another moment, saying,
"What, what do you want me to tell you?" It was a poor question, and Aspenpaw flinched in embarrassment, but luckily, Deya actually had an answer,
"Well, could ya tell me why ya kept your name a secret?"
"It's my old clan name," He took another deep breath, and Deya must have seen him struggling, so she helped him along,
"You're from the clans?"
"You know them?"
"Vaguely. They're like, four groups o' cats who all follow some sort o' beliefs, right?"
"Yeah, I guess,"
"What's it like there? I really don't know anything else," Aspenpaw thought it would be easy enough to explain the culture of the clans, but was soon proven wrong,
"Well, there are the four clans, Thunderclan, Shadowclan, Windclan, and Riverclan, and then there's Starclan, which is where we're supposed to go when we die. We've got a warrior code, and uh, we all learn to hunt and fight to provide and defend our clans,"
"Which clan are you from?"
"R-Riverclan,"
"Is it true that you don' let anybody in?" Deya seemed strangely intrigued by the concept of the clans, and Aspenpaw couldn't tell if she was just feigning interest to entertain him,
"Well, there's one cat who's not from the forest, but I don't think anybody outside of his clan is supposed to know that. I think he's from the city actually, or, his mother was,"
"Is it much of a peaceful place?"
"They're at war right now, least, last time I was there. There weren't any big conflicts while I was growing up,"
"Tell me 'bout that, do ya have any family?" Aspenpaw shuddered and knew how hard this was going to be. He decided to just start as far back as he could remember,
"We were the only kits in the nursery for about a moon after we were born, m-my brother and me," Aspenpaw closed his eyes and tried to imagine it.
The days seemed so long ago, so diluted by dreams and fantasies of being there again that he wasn't sure if anything he knew was real,
"They named us after an old story, I don't really remember. It was something about how things grow and die and continue on,"
"What's your brother's name?" He dreaded the question, and he dreaded saying the answer, but he reasoned that it would only hurt him more to keep it a secret,
"A-Acornpaw," Deya didn't ask any follow up, and Aspenpaw didn't dare look at her, and continued where he left off, "We were just, normal kits for a while. We bothered all the warriors with questions and made the apprentices play with us, and before we went to sleep, our mother or father would tell us a story. We dreamed of being able to defend our clan, the way that they did. We played war and tried to climb as tall as we could to see out of camp. I-I, I remember the Medicine Cat coming, checking on us all the time. I guess we thought it was normal. But then we woke up one day next to our father, and he told us that mother was ill. I guess we thought that was normal too; we weren't scared. Father made sure to watch us all day, and if he knew anything, he didn't let it show. Then night came and Ac was throwing a tantrum 'cause mother wasn't there, and I couldn't fall asleep until moonhigh. The next day we wanted to visit her, but father said she needed rest. Every few minutes we'd abandon wherever we were and check the nursery to see if mother was there. One of us would cry every night for the first few nights. A couple days later we were allowed to, well, visit, but we weren't allowed to see her. They put up some ferns to separate us, but we still stayed and just listened to her voice for as long as we were allowed to. We both cried when we were taken away. It was the middle of leaf-bare, so we tried to stay out as long as possible, hoping we'd catch a cold and get to be sent to the Medicine Cat Den with her. Nobody ever told us what was wrong with her, at least not me. She was just 'sick'. One day, maybe three weeks after she first went in there, she came out to the clearing again. She was thinner than I could ever imagine a cat to be, even now, and she had to be assisted by the Medicine Cat with every muscle she moved. We were very careful too, despite how excited we were. I thought everything was finally back to normal, that she would eat some prey and fill out again, the smell of sickness would wear off, and then we could be a full family again. She couldn't play with us, but she told us a story and asked us questions and made sure we knew how proud of us she was. We, we had to be grabbed and held off the ground when she was brought back to the Medicine Cat Den,"
Aspenpaw winced at the memory, one that hurt more than most,
"Father led us in prayer every night for her, and he told us that Starclan would make everything right. Ac and me stopped being interested in fighting for the clan, we stopped bothering the warriors and apprentices. We mostly just tried to do everything we could to get her back. We couldn't live without her. Ac tried to become Whitestem's, the Medicine Cat's, apprentice early so he could learn how to treat her. I just, wanted to be alone a lot of the time. I found flowers and pretty pebbles and whatever, and I gathered them together in a pile and, whenever we were allowed to visit her, I gave them to her. I don't know what I was really thinking they could do, most of the flowers were already dead by the time we got to see her anyway. I was just so angry that she'd been kept away from us. Father tried his best to fill the space of both of them, but I think he was starting to lose hope. He didn't bring her up anymore, and just tried to distract us whenever we asked. I don't remember how long passed exactly, but we must've been about three moons old by then, maybe closer to four. Ac woke up early one morning because of how cold it was, and then he woke up me, and, a-and, father wasn't there. H-We looked around, a-and we, we ran all around camp. We didn't wanna wake a-anyone, s-so we went back to sleep. W-When we woke up again, he-h-he still, still wasn't there. I-I asked the other queen in the nursery, where he'd, where he had gone, but she didn't know. Th-They sent out a-a patrol to look for him, b-but he, b-b, b-" Aspenpaw couldn't get the words out.
He was crying now, even obvious through his closed eyes, "H-He never came b-back! H-He left us! He never loved me!" Aspenpaw shouted from his soul, saying the words which he had never said anytime else but in a passing dream.
Deya rushed forward and embraced Aspenpaw again, pushing her paws into his pelt and breathing him in deeply, "I'm sorry," She whispered, so sincerely that Aspenpaw couldn't possibly be upset with the sympathy.
It just felt right now, "He sounds like an awful father,"
"But he wasn't!" Aspenpaw cracked his voice, and looking deeply into her eyes, he spilled out his life, "H-He was a perfect daddy! He d-d-did everything for us! And then he left! And I'll never see him again!"
Aspenpaw felt ashamed of his kit-like outburst, ashamed for how he didn't know what to feel.
He leaned into Deya and felt her warm chest against his face, rumbling as she began to speak, "I never knew my daddy, never knew who 'e was,"
She spoke softly, the edge of war forgotten for a moment, "We was too young then to have much a concept o' much, so we never pried too much, and ma never said nothin'. I guess I shouldn't try to say I understand, it's easy to lose somethin' ya never had, but I have lost cats. I don' ever want you to think you're alone, As,"
Maybe he really wasn't alone anymore.
It was such a crazy thought to him now, but if it wasn't that, then they had both spilled their secrets for naught.
Aspenpaw had steadied his breathing in the time that Deya was talking, and he decided to continue, no matter how much it hurt, because he knew now that she must understand,
"Mother was the one who told us that he wasn't coming back. That was the first I got, really, really angry. We few only allowed a few minutes with her, and I-I, I hit her. I was just so angry, and I hit her. That was the last time I saw her face, and all I could do was kick out,"
He had to take a moment to subdue the memory, but was able to continue on quickly enough, his head still cradled against Deya's chest,
"She died about a moon later. Nobody had to tell us, we already knew. They couldn't hold a vigil for her because of the sickness, so when the time came, they just showed us to her grave. And then we were, we were alone. The next moon we became apprentices. I became a warrior apprentice, and Ac became the Medicine Cat Apprentice, the healer and the bridge between the living cats and Starclan. Her death drove him very close to Starclan; I stopped believing. If our ancestors were looking after us, they wouldn't let this happen to their kin. They would have healed her, and made father stay, and stop all the fighting," Aspenpaw wished he could disappear, get away from all this mess, "Anyway," He tried to continue, "We made friends, or, Ac made friends with some of the apprentices in the other clans at our first gathering, where all four clans come together for a meeting, and I tagged just along and didn't say anything. I didn't care about hunting or fighting so I snuck out as much as possible and explored the territories. Ac was so, so invested in his work; it was all he could think about. He knew everything. I still don't know how to sweep somebody's back paws out, or use the wind to stalk land prey. My mentor really gave up on me after a while. He was so nice and I just ignored him. Anytime somebody else'd try and talk to me, I'd snap at them and insult them until they left," The fact that Deya hadn't said anything, or even made any sort of sound terrified Aspenpaw, but he squeezed her tighter and continued to pour his heart out over all the mistakes he had made, "Ac and me barely talked anymore after mother d-died, at least, during the day. We passed each other by and by, but then sometimes, on a clear night, we'd go lie down in a field and talk for hours on end. But we never really told each other how we felt,"
"You didn't have anybody else?" Deya suddenly asked, so softly.
Aspenpaw sighed and remembered the faces of his past, the cats he didn't have anymore, that he couldn't have anymore, "There was this one tom, who I liked a lot. He was from Shadowclan, and he, I'd meet him along the border whenever I could. He understood, he was so understanding. His name was Rustheart, or, Rustpaw then. I never really told him much, but he was my best friend, and I felt comfortable with him. There was another tom too, but, he's strange. I don't think I'll ever understand him. But he was a good cat and he helped me get by through some of the hardest nights,"
Aspenpaw paused as he remembered soaking Loneheart's pelt with his tears in the moons after he killed Acornpaw,
"Could I, could I ask why you left?" He couldn't tell Deya that, he just couldn't. He was a coward and a murderer, and incapable of being honest,
"I-I-I, h-hurt someone. I couldn't stay," Aspenpaw was choking deeply on his emotions, and Deya never let go,
"I won't let the dark get a hold of ya, As. Is that still what ya want me to call you?"
"I prefer As," Aspenpaw tried to gather himself, but couldn't make it past the three words. With another breath he whispered, "No one's strong enough to make it alone,"
"No one strong enough to go without water," Aspenpaw let out a laugh at all the absurdity of the conversation. How funny their lives were, "Are you tired, As? We can go back to camp now if ya want," Aspenpaw didn't move, and shyly suggested,
"No, I can stay here, for a while. There's nowhere better," He wanted this moment to last a lifetime, holding one another in such a tight empathy, and Deya felt the same way, and purred out,
"I couldn't think of anything less,"