“Why do we hate protesters so much daddy?”
Torvin blinked, his mouth slightly agape as he turned to look at his daughter. “What do you mean sweetheart?”
“My news feed is full of people talking about how protesters belong in jail or that they are wasting their time. How it must be nice not to have real jobs.” Trina didn’t even lift her head from her crystal, one finger casually flicking up to show more of her feed. “No one seems to want to talk about the issue.”
Torvin cleared his throat while rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, baby…I suppose that’s because it’s easier to talk about protests than issues.”
“Why?” She turned her eyes up towards her father, her brown orbs bright and inquisitive in the way only a child could have.
“Because a lot of people see magic as a right and when you start talking about more education and limiting what people can do, they get angry.”
“But isn’t magic dangerous?”
“Of course it is sweetheart. So are a lot of other things, though. It gets complicated real fast.” Torvin’s brain was already hurting and he wasn’t that deep into the explanation.
“So people make fun of protesters to avoid trying to figure out answers to the problems.” Trina’s lips turned down slightly.
“Maybe. No. I don’t know.” Torvin grunted slightly. “It gets complicated. Some people don’t want to talk about the issues. Some people don’t like seeing these protests all the time. So people just want to be mad at others wanting to change things.
“And that’s why it’s so hard to do anything. You have to wade through the reasons why people are resisting and address their concerns. That’s why we have the Conclave.”
“Ok daddy.” Her voice was distracted, absent any interest or attention. Torvin looked down to see her back on her crystal watching some video or another. That was the problem with young centaurs today. Not enough attention span to finish a simple conversation.
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