Please, my heart can't take it. [as though he wouldn't cherish them but yeah he'd die. at least he could do so in privacy, assuming pal is merciful.

his hand goes back to idly running through pal's hair, considering all that as he does. there is a moment he's concerned of the idea of the reckoning deciding cytherea's death is punishable but surely eight months in isolation was punishment enough? death on top of it?

he lets out a soft sigh. otherwise no, he can hardly see anything he's done that deserves the blade.] I suppose I am more concerned with this malicious attitude even the Trench natives seem to have. Have you been to the boardwalk this month? Calling them unpleasant is putting it mildly.

I assume it's some influence, and if it starts affecting sleepers with the power to cause trouble too- [need he continue there. ah well, another press of his lips to pal's temple.] Eh, another set of troubles we'll make do with, I suppose. At least this place has air conditioning.