We're still animals, even if we dress ourselves up as something better. And no, it's not the way things are. It was only an example--a metaphor, like Peter said.

[ Sylar tilted his head away, watching the waitress crossing the coffee shop with their tray. He took a breath, exhaling what seemed to be tension in his shoulders, then looking toward McCoy again. ]

Don't get me wrong, I'm only trying to make conversation. If it'd make you more comfortable to speak about the weather, I don't mind letting the topic drift.

[ Because he really didn't want McCoy leaving feeling like he couldn't come back. If it was true that he was only here to get the telepathic compulsion taken from him, then it was all for nothing, and he had no desire to push away one of the last people who could stand being around either of them.

In fact, if he wanted to keep Peter sane, it was essential that he didn't. Fortunately the waitress arrived before his mind could wander too far. ]