Red Falcon yearned for the world in books, to personally experience those beautiful stories, but he knew clearly that it was impossible. The stories in books were just a sanctuary that allowed him to briefly escape reality; he couldn't hide in them forever. One must face these things eventually.
Red Falcon hated reality; he detested everything about it because it owed nothing to logic, with every minute and second possibly bringing dreadful surprises, like what he had recently encountered.
Thinking of this made Red Falcon's heart ache. This wasn't about logic anymore. If he were a character in a story, he felt the author must have some grudge against him, endlessly toying with him.
