Phineas nodded slowly, leaning his body on the cave wall and lowering himself next to her. The confession came as a surprise, given the tough, proud shell Eliza seemed to have thrown around herself. Having listened to her empty her heart like that, Phineas thought it would only be comforting to offer something in return.
"I wanted to be a writer," he said. It sounded stupid coming out of his mouth, but it seemed to be fitting. "The thought of being able to make a living from the comfort of my apartment fascinated me. But then I realized I could live these adventure stories instead of put them to paper, and my life began. I don't regret a minute of my work in the Ministry..." his voice trailed off. "But look at us now. Thousands of miles for home, no food or water, surrounded by men who want to kill us." He sighed, letting the sentence hang in the air rather than dragging the morale down further. He pulled the clip out of his pistol and inspected it. Six bullets.