09-13-2017, 04:46 PM
Alfred reached his hands up and ran his fingers through his hair. Once upon a time, he wouldn't have had much of a cause to do something like that, but with his hair so long now it was the sort of nervous tick that could keep his hands occupied for several seconds, working through the mats and twists of his curs.
"Sailors don't hope," he pronounced, glancing up at Paul. He wasn't trying to tear down the other man's encouragement--he did appreciate it--but sitting down in the dirt to dig around and maybe find something fun and risking your life in order to go out and accomplish a task were very different things. For something like archaeology, maybe hope was fine. Maybe that was all you needed, to get yourself through the day. Hope, though, to him, implied that there was no real basis in fact, and that couldn't work for someone who spent months away from family and friends in pursuit of someone else's goals. If the men were expected to put their sweat and their backs and maybe even their necks in to this job, they needed more than blind faith. "They trust. They trust me. I just don't know whether they should."
"Sailors don't hope," he pronounced, glancing up at Paul. He wasn't trying to tear down the other man's encouragement--he did appreciate it--but sitting down in the dirt to dig around and maybe find something fun and risking your life in order to go out and accomplish a task were very different things. For something like archaeology, maybe hope was fine. Maybe that was all you needed, to get yourself through the day. Hope, though, to him, implied that there was no real basis in fact, and that couldn't work for someone who spent months away from family and friends in pursuit of someone else's goals. If the men were expected to put their sweat and their backs and maybe even their necks in to this job, they needed more than blind faith. "They trust. They trust me. I just don't know whether they should."
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