Salvatore listened to the tall metal clad man intently. As Alex spoke on and on, the more Salvatore shrank under his stare, little more than a look of confused shock on his face. At the final question the man looked blankly, staring at the his friend's shoulder instead of his face. He couldn't meet the stare.
"Oi..." He was, for once, at a loss for words. He tried to look at Alex's face but couldn't quite bring himself to do it. Instead he looked down, at the helmet at his knee. The man rubbed the edge of the guard at the front of the helmet, gingerly picking it up and setting it on the table besides his now-forgotten food.
"Oi... Don't know." He finally managed to spit out, the words more tumbling than flowing as before.
The man stared intently at the helmet, looking at every scratch and mar, every burn and dent. He watched the light flicker on it softly, vague reflections of things he vaguely knows. He turned it around, looking inside of it, slowly as if afraid of what he might see in the dark inside of it. There were no monsters, no grasping hands, no vicious eyes. Just dull leather that was covered with dried blood, bits of his hair that stuck inside, dirt and grime. His face held inklings of horror as he placed it aside, not daring to touch the thing now lest he not be able to let it go again. He looked at his hands, the table, his food, the fire's light in the room, the wall, anything but his friend. Salvatore didn't know what he could say, what could he say? ...What was there to say?
Slowly after a silence, Salvatore looked at Alex. He tried to speak, his mouth opened but no words came out. He gritted his teeth visibly, and tried again. Still nothing. Anger filled his visage, something he hasn't felt for a long, long time. Grasping at the back of his neck, he grabbed hold of the cloth and chain that was attached to his armor for the helmet laying on the back of his armor uselessly. With a grunt, the man ripped it free and set it by the helmet. He grasped the helmet once more, but this time not gingerly, no, he was holding it fierce enough that one could imagine dents forming on the surface. Moving with purpose towards the door, he opened it inviting the chill of the night into the room. He looked once more at his helmet. Then at Alex, meeting his stare for once. Then outside.
Then he flung the helmet outside as hard as he could.
Salvatore breathed heavily for a few seconds, calming down, and closing the door. He sat quietly in his chair once more. After a heavy minute of silence, he finally spoke softly.
"Yah remember... What Oi told yah so long ago? At tha' inn, 'fore we split up? ...Oi think Oi finally know what it means now." The man sounded... Different. Happy.
"Tha--... Thank yah. Yah... Yah really are loike him. No... No, yer not loike him. Yer yerself, an' no one else. He was ah good friend from long ago. Oi can only think he be smilin' roight now, wherever he is. It'd be loike him." The man trailed off, a smile on his face.
"Oi don' know what Oi foight fer honestly roight now. But it'll be fun foinding out, won' it? Tha's loife." The man could only muffle the laughter that followed, as if he heard the funniest joke he's heard in a good long time.
"Oi've got mah friends, people who actually give ah damn about me. An' Oi was ta stupid ta see tha' until now."