The water ripples and swirls, giving way to the image of his previous self, clad in a toga.
“Make no mistake,” he hears himself speak, “We are at war here, only total victory can save us.”
The thin man snaps his fingers, and the bowl disappears. “See? War. We have studied war. War is born of greed and hate. Is the Forest greedy for the Weave?”
“Don't be so ridiculous!”
“Which leaves us with hate!” The thin man beams, like a child that's just won a penny at the Fair. “Your own words prove it true.”
