Yeah. [He nods quiet agreement at that first bit of description. Like dreams, that's a good way of describing them. He sees contextless bits and pieces of that other Andrew's life, feelings and vague flashes of things that end up blurry and out of focus. He didn't write it all down, either. The strongest, clearest memories are from the arena. Them, and the sense of power, of control, of looking down on everyone.

But then she continues, and-- Gee, that sounds familiar. And not entirely wrong, either, from his point of view.]

Power's not the worst way to find a place to belong.

[He could be talking about her, but he could just as easily be talking about him. He doesn't even quite know which himself.]

Or if you get powerful enough, maybe you don't need a place to belong anymore.