They really weren't so different from each other, even when their backgrounds were taken into account. If anything, they had both been brought up in families that respected the earth, from whence their livelihood came from. Krishna had never been through the traumatising ordeal that Morrigan had, but he had guided many through them. It was no substitute, but it was not an abstract notion to him the way it could have been for so many people. He tended to hover on the edges, but when someone got hurt or fell ill, he eventually became involved.
"It's a question for the gods, or for those more intelligent than me." His expression turned thoughtful as he considered Morrigan's request. As ridiculous as it sounded, Krishna didn't take it as the joke it might have been. There was a real plea in there, one that Krishna understood all too well. "There are ways to live your life so that you distance yourself from chaos, but they come with their own price." A price he consciously and willingly paid. It was no accident that at his age, he was still unattached and without a family. That mitigated some of the chaos that tended to spark when people met and clashed. At the same time, not all chaos was undesirable - it just wasn't what Krishna was looking for. Still, with the Clovennians overruning Glynn, he wasn't sure that how long he could set himself apart the way he had. Already, in helping those in need, Krishna had one foot in the resistance, both feet in the eyes of Clovennians.
"But I will tell you, if I ever find a sure way, Morrigan." He said it in all seriousness, but there was such a wry glint in his eyes that it was clear he didn't think it would ever come to pass. Yet, he was content to talk about it. "Until then, we will just have to promise each other not to create more trouble than we can clean up. What do you say?"