Mayerling's attention stays on the glowing orbs first, rather than Manabu. As well as he thinks of Manabu, the vampire is fairly certain that they are responsible for the welling of hope bursting in his chest. For a moment, he breathes, surprised at the intensity of it. He commits to hope each day in the face of whatever adversity, but it's another matter to feel it so strongly, stronger than he's felt it of his own accord in so much time—

"Evening, Manabu," Mayerling says with his usual deep voice. "Are those... common?"