[ Konstantin's looking back over to Bigby at that, staring at the other man. Again, all of this is so... new to him, this concept of other people having something wrong with them in the ways he does, or ways similar at all — ways that could earn discrimination, ostracization.
He's quiet for a few lingering moments, feeling that overarching, lingering weight in the air, something that the other man's softening tone is a reminder to. After a moment, Konstantin takes a little half step closer, reaching to clasp a hand against the other man's shoulder for a brief moment, giving it a soft pat. Soft, but meant as a comforting gesture. (A bold move, some might say, considering what Bigby was doing the last time he saw him — but Konstantin isn't shy to boldness, and... this man just lost a friend.)
But he doesn't push, doesn't linger, stepping back again to give him his space after a moment, moving back towards the nearest wall so he can lean against it a little, slowly folding his arms. He knows eventually he might have to divulge some things about himself to others, or either isolate himself entirely. This precarious balance he's found may only be temporary. (He heard there was a snowstorm here, not long before his arrival. What if another one happens? What if they lose supplies, or run out of them over time? What if there are no more grouse to find? What if the thing inside of his body becomes desperate? He can't stop it. He can't control it.) ]
What if.... the ways in which someone is different could be dangerous to others? If they could be a risk to the rest of the people here?
[ The questions stay easy, conversational — curious but not insistent. It's a nice idea, truly, that no one would face backlash for such a thing, but as much as he fears such a thing happening to him again, the truth is he knows he should be locked up somewhere. Monitored. At least Vasiliy's able to monitor his situation as much as possible, but... it's so unpredictable. ]
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He's quiet for a few lingering moments, feeling that overarching, lingering weight in the air, something that the other man's softening tone is a reminder to. After a moment, Konstantin takes a little half step closer, reaching to clasp a hand against the other man's shoulder for a brief moment, giving it a soft pat. Soft, but meant as a comforting gesture. (A bold move, some might say, considering what Bigby was doing the last time he saw him — but Konstantin isn't shy to boldness, and... this man just lost a friend.)
But he doesn't push, doesn't linger, stepping back again to give him his space after a moment, moving back towards the nearest wall so he can lean against it a little, slowly folding his arms. He knows eventually he might have to divulge some things about himself to others, or either isolate himself entirely. This precarious balance he's found may only be temporary. (He heard there was a snowstorm here, not long before his arrival. What if another one happens? What if they lose supplies, or run out of them over time? What if there are no more grouse to find? What if the thing inside of his body becomes desperate? He can't stop it. He can't control it.) ]
What if.... the ways in which someone is different could be dangerous to others? If they could be a risk to the rest of the people here?
[ The questions stay easy, conversational — curious but not insistent. It's a nice idea, truly, that no one would face backlash for such a thing, but as much as he fears such a thing happening to him again, the truth is he knows he should be locked up somewhere. Monitored. At least Vasiliy's able to monitor his situation as much as possible, but... it's so unpredictable. ]