Eren has always been bad at peace. Even as a child, he found violence (including murder). He's always gotten in fights, swung a fist before using words. Sure, he can find words. He can inspire people without meaning to. He has passion, whether or not it boils into rage. But violence is easy and familiar.

Peace is an illusion.

He reaches out and pets the horse's neck, fingers trailing underneath slightly tangled mane hairs. He's careful not to look at Erwin lest his face give something away. He's too expressive, after all, and knows it. He'll fix that one day, but he's nowhere near that yet.

"What would you do, Commander?" he finally asks. "I know you wouldn't lay down and die."

He doesn't mean that as a barb, but it almost sounds like one.

"What does that leave? Become the devils they're so afraid of?"

Eren's tone is so, so careful. He's not usually this measured, but he can't gauge Erwin all that well. They're not close, but even besides that, he's not always sure what's going on in that too smart head. Erwin can see the big picture in a way that Eren can't. Eren knows the ending and some of the parts, but he can't calculate the pieces. There are things he can't see, but he's pretty sure that with just enough information, Erwin could sort it out. Erwin also doesn't have to think in nonlinear time, but whatever.

As for Erwin's question, that's trickier. What did he know and when? Now it's confusing.

"Once or twice during training I didn't really get hurt when I should have," he says. "I had weird nightmares of running through the woods and my dad with a needle, but that could never make sense to me."

He finally looks at Erwin again, moving his hand back away from the horse as he does.

"Why? Did you remember something weird?"