Alric eased back to give Tiamaris some room, to make sure he didn't feel crowded. He rubbed his forehead a moment longer, then brushed his hair back, and slipped his hands into his pockets--he usually thought of exposed hands as the most reassuring posture, but perhaps reversing that would work better for Tiamaris, considering his particular concerns.

He listened, then nodded slightly.

"...yes. ...and... something like that, yes. Although I would..."

He smiled faintly, wryly, for a moment.

"...at least, I believe... I would feel that anger in response to anyone being so... grossly abused as you have been, whatever our similarities or differences. I have always felt acutely the importance of a clear sense of right and wrong--of a dedication to and passion for upholding justice. ...but I suppose that to see a... an echo of oneself in another person inspires a certain sense of... closeness."

He paused, glancing aside, toward the wrapped parcel sitting on the desk, then back to Tiamaris.

"...when I look at you, I do not see a 'monster,' as you say, but an angry, wounded young man, who, where I have enjoyed shelter and support, was burdened instead with still greater torments. I see also that you have considerable gifts, which I sincerely believe you could learn to use well... to help those who do not even have the good fortune of a place like this Institute to shelter them."