The snow drifted down and down, all in ghostly silence, and lay thick and unbroken on the ground. It was a place of whites and blacks and greys. White towers and white snow and white statues, black shadows and black trees, the dark grey sky above. A pure world, Sansa thought. I do not belong here. Yet she stepped out all the same.
One thing that keeps striking me as the series continues is the way Steven and Rose serve as foils for one another. It’s easy to see how similar they are and yet the most beautiful part of Steven– the way he is capable of intuitively picking up on emotions, his consideration for others and how gently he treats others’ feelings– is what is sorely lacking in his ethereal mother.
What a contrast. Rose attempts to understand Greg’s emotions, Steven picks up on others’ feelings right away, be they gem or human. In his short life, Steven has already reached a depth of emotional maturity that was closed off to Rose for the millenniums she existed.
As willing as she was to try, even Rose knew she’d never experience true love the way a human being could– and that’s why she gave up her physical form. This precious cinnamon roll bridges the gems to the human condition and helps them find the humanity in themselves. Steven is the embodiment of humanity’s beauty– vulnerable, gentle, complex in simplicity, and more capable of love than any other species.