Hesta stared silently at Shawn's furious face.
"Do you know," she said softly, "not long ago, someone told me that anger was the only spear a person had in this world. It was brutal, ugly, and sharp, so when you were threatened, weakened, and humiliated, it would leap out without a thought and urge you to fight back.
"Do you want to fight back, Shawn?"
Hesta grabbed Shawn's head and slammed it hard against the wall.
"Lately, I've been chewing over this feeling every day. Every single day."
A pained, low groan escaped Shawn's throat, and blood once again trickled from the corner of his mouth. Even so, he still turned his head with difficulty and fixed Hesta's eyes with a hateful stare, refusing to relax for even a moment.
"You... just wait..."
Hesta laughed.
"They say people were often at their strongest when they were angry. Do you think that's true?"
Hesta's voice was indifferent. She did not expect Shawn to answer any of her questions, and after a brief moment of thought, she continued on her own.
"But later, I thought about it. When a person was at their angriest, that also seemed to be when they were most afraid. Like when you stole a starving person's last ration—he lived on that thing. If the one thing he depended on was taken from him so easily, how was he supposed to survive?
"So he used the greatest anger to warn every plunderer: 'Don't even think about coming near me, because I'll defend it at any cost.'
"Anger is armor. Fear is the core. Don't you think?"
Hesta raised her chin slightly and smiled.
"Tell me, Shawn. While I'm saying all this, what are you angry about? What are you afraid of? Why did you target me and make