From where Lorne is sitting, staring, they're both correct: it explains nothing and everything. Tuo's wandering metaphor speaks to the complexities of two lifetimes Lorne has almost no context for. The fact that he does not - or cannot? - begin by simply saying that tells Lorne he must tread carefully. By making his armor visible, Tuo also shows him there is something vulnerable underneath. Lorne is not so addled by his injuries nor so arrogant by nature to assume he's earned the whole of that tale by the circumstances that carried them into this room.

He takes a careful breath and exhales slowly, gathering his thoughts to order. "A Shepherd who is not so Shepherd-ly in his duty, and a traveling storyteller and puppeteer from a foreign land, secretly betrothed." The corner of Lorne's mouth twitches up, studying them both. "You might forgive me any shock; I have lived through no such story, as you say. Mine is rather dull by comparison." Dryly. Most of his life has passed by in or near this very village. He's seen his own share of heartache and convoluted relationships, but not ones so unique as Tuo implies. His is a tale shared by many who live in these mountains.

He spreads his hands to the side of the mug, palms up. "So this is where our stories intersect. I am not asking for some epic recitation." What is he asking for? Lorne isn't sure, and he's rather too tired to dig that deeply anyway."You've trusted me with this much, intentionally or otherwise. Will you trust me with more, if not now then someday?"

There are worse places to begin than requesting permission to speak of their pasts. Let him try to be more than a fish in a stream.