[Furiosa listens, and watches. She begins to understand. This wasn't the Wastelands, it was more confined than the other ship and planet he'd apparently been stranded on. Her seven thousand days had been spent adapting to fit within a society. His, well. She could only guess. She didn't know his history, and while they had a great many things in common, there were marked differences she's growing more aware of.]
[But she's not about to ask about his past. He's done her the service of not asking about hers. Instead, her expression loses the edge that she's grown used to carrying. She settles back in her seat while she mulls over his words and dilemma, formulating an answer that wouldn't be patronizing or dismissive.]
Whatever you're doing, you should keep doing it. [It's a quiet, but honest answer.] All I can tell you is, my plant came back in better condition than when I gave it to you, and there's a handful of women who get to live free now because of your contribution. [A small pause,] I would be dead if it weren't for you. [Your very blood, Max.] Whatever happened that makes you think you can't take care of things, it's over. It's in the past. You've moved on.
no subject
[But she's not about to ask about his past. He's done her the service of not asking about hers. Instead, her expression loses the edge that she's grown used to carrying. She settles back in her seat while she mulls over his words and dilemma, formulating an answer that wouldn't be patronizing or dismissive.]
Whatever you're doing, you should keep doing it. [It's a quiet, but honest answer.] All I can tell you is, my plant came back in better condition than when I gave it to you, and there's a handful of women who get to live free now because of your contribution. [A small pause,] I would be dead if it weren't for you. [Your very blood, Max.] Whatever happened that makes you think you can't take care of things, it's over. It's in the past. You've moved on.