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Scar offers himself to Grian on a silver platter. Hunched over in that pond, panting from the exertion of killing Bdubs, he offers himself to Grian to take. To have, to hold, to kill and eat: to take his heart or his body or his very soul between his sharp teeth, to bite and tear and chew and devour. It’s all okay with Scar, really, considering how long Grian’s kept him alive, even after his life debt was fulfilled. Really, if someone has to die, he’d rather it be him. He doesn’t have it in him to hurt Grian the way Grian has it in him to hurt Scar. Not that it’s a bad thing, of course! For Grian to have it in him to hurt Scar it is.
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