"....Hence the mistrust and presumption that those here have done some great wrong, or at least enough to brand them as criminals." He sighed audibly, and turned to frown at the next box as he crouched and opened it, stacking more items into his shield, cradling them against his chest. "And what, pray tell, sort of judgment is presumed to be at play, for children to end up here? ...For that ent, a creature that cannot even comprehend that what others commonly accept as matters of right and wrong as such, to be here as well? Even if I were to agree that simply forcing people to languish in such poor conditions were somehow, in some way, anything even remotely approaching just, in general -- which I do not, cannot, and will not -- there would be no sense in this."

He hadn't raised his voice once, but he didn't need to. He stood again to resume unloading things onto the shelf. He didn't slam anything around, wasn't rough with any of the packages of crackers as he set them down. He didn't even seem particularly tense. But it was clear, all the same, that he was not in as good of a mood any more. ...Which was probably about as much of an understatement as his current outward display of disapproval....