How rare a treat that is. How so few bother to know him behind the moniker of Warrior of Light or, sometimes, even under the title of Azem, for better or for worse. But Byleth would have no reason to worry about those things with Obsidian, for it is just him, a man.
So that's how he knows he's placed his trust right.]
...Viera, by nature, live away from most other cultures. Isolationists, territorial, determined to live by the Wood, for the Wood. And so there are traditions they follow, for better or for worse.
If you mature into a man or a woman, your life is chosen for you one way or another. I can't claim to know if it's really any better for women, but for men... well. You have two clear expectations: you protect the village, hunt for the village, but you live in the Wood. Only a few years at a time do we return, and that is to breed. Sex had ever been a loveless, empty thing. A role, a job.
[Even then, he'd been known for his duty. Expected to fulfill. Who he was, it didn't matter to anyone.]
There were many reasons why I left my village, but that was certainly one of them. Aye, it's true, all manner of cultures of mankind have absurd perspectives for it, but for us it isn't ever your choice. You don't decide who, you don't decide if you even want to. Just... expected. Decided for you. Who you are, what you do, what you wear -- well sod that. All of it.
no subject
How rare a treat that is. How so few bother to know him behind the moniker of Warrior of Light or, sometimes, even under the title of Azem, for better or for worse. But Byleth would have no reason to worry about those things with Obsidian, for it is just him, a man.
So that's how he knows he's placed his trust right.]
...Viera, by nature, live away from most other cultures. Isolationists, territorial, determined to live by the Wood, for the Wood. And so there are traditions they follow, for better or for worse.
If you mature into a man or a woman, your life is chosen for you one way or another. I can't claim to know if it's really any better for women, but for men... well. You have two clear expectations: you protect the village, hunt for the village, but you live in the Wood. Only a few years at a time do we return, and that is to breed. Sex had ever been a loveless, empty thing. A role, a job.
[Even then, he'd been known for his duty. Expected to fulfill. Who he was, it didn't matter to anyone.]
There were many reasons why I left my village, but that was certainly one of them. Aye, it's true, all manner of cultures of mankind have absurd perspectives for it, but for us it isn't ever your choice. You don't decide who, you don't decide if you even want to. Just... expected. Decided for you. Who you are, what you do, what you wear -- well sod that. All of it.