"If everyone was kind like you, maybe that'd be true."

If it was possible to see to the edge of a battlefield and the place that lies beyond it at all, for that matter. That was the same battle he'd lost, the one that took everything. And for the strength inherent in what he's saying and how much he believes it, instinct and drive burning without end, the color of that defeat also tinges his voice. He'd already seen the worst of humanity, making his idea of a fight worth anything at all run hollow. But his failings don't have a place at this table that he thinks he can find, so he leaves it there, quiet and succinct, more a compliment than maybe he realizes.

"I've heard a little about fairytales, but I don't understand them very well. They sounded kind of... impossible."

Without realizing that's the point, speaking of hope having a place also.