He shakes his head. "I don't destroy things. Not enough of a major player to, even if I was the type. I just want to get by."

And all these forces, spaceships and alien jesus and giant bubbles and the inevitably of human need, keep getting in the way of that. At least Anwei had a choice, he figures. At least enough choice to recognize wrong instead of just wallowing in it.

He takes it and swallows it, stabbing himself in the lip with the shish kebob as he does so. A little blood dribbles onto his chin, but he doesn't seem to notice. "Thanks."