No, you are not like other Leithians. [ Something tugs at him, a shadow of a thought which whispers she is going to disappear, begging that he glance back, over his shoulder, to glimpse Alice's look of dispassion; the fugue just beginning to settle over her. Though they have been parted by a pane of glass all this while, it is only now that hoarfrost has begun to blossom in quiet upon its surface, but--... Sion will not let it settle there, and in an instant, he is drawn to Alice's side, though he allows for a comfortable distance to remain between them. ] You are Miss Alice Liddell, willful and brave, and you will walk on from this.

[ And she has support, she has help. In the here and now, as he has always said, she is not alone, and the sentiment is given life by way of a gesture: the offering of his hand, palm barefaced and open, if only she should wish to take it.

(But he also will accept the knife, should she think to relinquish it to him. That, or perhaps the bloodied washcloth to be disposed of.) ]

I once told you that I wanted only for your happiness, and that has not changed. I would not send you anywhere you did not wish to go.

[ Until she believes it for herself, he will say it, act upon it, and show her that--... ]

Alice... [ A step taken forward, the distance between them becoming smaller, because more than anything, he feels this must be said: ] It is not your fault.