Armour

SCABS ARE KINDA BITCHIN.

But they're only there when you need them.
Armour covers weaknesses. Makes strong places.
But also marks them out, as we've learned from Shadow. This is very important.
I've killed more colossi than I can count on my fingers now because of these markings.
He is beginning to scar(e?) me. I am beginning to scare me. How much of him am I? How much of me is he?

It covers and protects, but it's not very flexible stuff, scars and armour. I've bumped my arm a few times and been fine, but it's when I try to stretch it around that it hurts. It's cracked in three places today, and now it has to start healing all over again in those parts. I would rather be soft, I think; all permeable. Sinking and spilling into everything around me.

The colossi are places before they are gods; to fight them, one must wake them, pull them from this first form and into the second.
No wonder some come at you with anger. But is it anger? Maybe it is fear. "Go away, go away, go away." Maybe it is hunger. "Come nearer, come quicker, come cut me." Maybe it is not quite anything, really. Just..."why?"
It makes me nervous when people pick me up. Because I know I'm not the lightest thing in the world. Because I know you could drop me if you wanted to. Because I don't want you to know how much I trust you or how much I don't. Because places always become weaker when they are woken up and summoned to be people.

This is the colossus I'm on now. She's short and stocky and fast. I can't kill her yet. And she's afraid of fire. God. I can't kill her yet. She's so goddamn beautiful. More beautiful than I am. More beautiful than what I'm doing. God. Afraid of fire. I can't kill her yet.

'Ah,' said the fox, "I shall cry.'

'It is your own fault,' said the little prince. 'I never wished you any sort of harm; but you wanted me to tame you...'

'Yes, that is so,' said the fox.

'But now you are going to cry!' said the little prince.

'Yes, that is so,' said the fox.

'Then it has done you no good at all!'

'It has done me good,' said the fox, 'because of the colour of the wheat fields.'

Antoine de Saint-Exupery 158