"The gods piss on us and call it rain," he counters, shaking his head. "I am not sure I can find comfort in them." He rolls his eyes but drinks more tea at her urging.

He listens to the song, though he cannot follow the words.

"My people told such stories. We all dreamed of glory, the gods saw fit that I should find mine in the arena. I chose my fate from there, for better or worse."