[ Kaspar's distance is short lived. The present has always taken precedence and what works even better is a question that he has an answer for. It is easy to leave the worst memories untouched, lest he remember the physical pain of fighting too. It is the whiplash maybe, or the company, or the lack of tea in his cup. He's not concerned with the impulse to speak freely.

As subtle as a flower leaning for the sun, his warmth returns-- ]

The world seems an imperfect place, just as its people. I believe, there is beauty in that.

[ There is never really an edge to his voice, but after he trails off there is a brief pause. His last sentence is far more resolute: ] Differences alone do not make anyone lesser. Whether intrinsic or otherwise.

[ It is the first time he has ever spoken about such things freely with someone. The joy he feels from it, right from his chest, drums subdued energy into his posture. ]