[ the light playful debate of an eddying breeze. alhaitham gently arranges the flower in kaveh's palm. the lakewater is cool, and free. the stem sits slotted between kaveh's fingers. its petals splay, as if breathing out in the way of a sigh. blue, and the gentle gradient of a budding purple, with the golden yellow of a clustered stamen. objectively speaking, the lotus is beautiful. it becomes something else in kaveh's hands.

in turn, alhaitham reaches into his pouch. the vial that he takes out is empty. he begins to gently press its open lip to the flower's stamen. pollen gathers, tumbling into the glass vial like golden motes of light. ]

You would have fun, so long as the two of us were not walking down the hill in plain sight of the world.

[ because it had been kaveh who had wished to be carried anywhere. through process of elimination, it implies that it, too, had been kaveh, who had been dissatisfied with being where he was. alhaitham thinks, there truly is no-one comfortable in the mere guise of their own skin. but people as a whole would live happier lives if they were.

alhaitham shakes his head. ]

Your premise, as usual, forgets the limitations of your own comfort.