Thibadeau exhaled a potent smelling thick smoke that curled in the light of the newly fed fire. He leaned forward slightly to catch an outstretched whisp as the smoke faded, breathing deeply through his nose and sighing contentedly. He held his pipe in his left hand, a simple thing obviously carved from old, weak swamp wood, the sort that lounged just beneath the surface of the pond. He'd listened to the crew of strangers argue about evil and found their views strange and foreign. Propped with his long legs dangling across another stump adjacent to the fire, he could only think of all the simple lessons he'd learned from his home. He took another deep pull from his pipe, holding the smoke in his lungs as his eyes wandered from Claudio, the man who might live forever, to Sai'if, who as far as he could tell was a member of some ancient order everyone else seemed to know about, to Shannow, arguing thoroughly for the absence of any kind of moral obectivity. His eyes lingered on Shannow for a moment, tall like his people but not near as calm.
He released the smoke in a flowing billow, aimed upwards toward the sky. He coughed once and then breathed in deeply through his nose. He took his feet off the stump and turned to where the arguing was happening.
"There don't seem to me to be all that much to confuse between good and bad." He said calmly, less asserting his point and more casually remarking. "I 'pose my heritage may have formed me into a less worldly man but, in the swamps, its simple to know what behavior is good and what behavior is poor. I was taught to ask of every decision, whether I was addin' somethin' to the world or takin' it away. A man builds a school and he adds something, the next man drinks the world's last example of a truely fine vintage and he has deprived his fellow man. Wise man sits down and conjurers up a poison what causes misery before the end, he's added something. Wise man won't handle his guilt and brings about his end prematurely, hes deprived the world of his knowledge and experience. So many people won't get taught."
Thibadeau took another pull from his pipe and let the fumes go early, watching the swirls and forms dance through the cloud, thinking to himself. "I think what I don't understand about all your opinions on morality..." He thought for a moment about how best to phrase it. ".. Is that morality ain't for people. We're tiny, insignificant. I don't know if you noticed. Being kind to your fellow man is nice. Its polite. But ain't nothing to do with morality. Good and evil are actions a man can take to his world, to everythin' living on it and all the future generations. If theres a child what gonna live a painful life and you kill him for politeness, thats friendly. But ain't good. The world don't get that child's story and everythin' he might have done, every person he might have changed, gonna stay undid and unchanged. The world's got less because of what you done and thats evil." He said pausing on the last word.
"Life ain't always friendly but that don't give us the right to excuse ourselves from it. And you ain't doin' the world, the future, no one no favors by escortin' away the folks you think ain't friendly."
Thibadeau took another puff from his pipe and offered it to the crowd at large as he puffed out another ivory cloud. "...I 'pose."
