[... Ah. Syrlya stills at that, his fingers curling slightly. He doesn't bring it up much, because he isn't sure that Trahearne wants to walk around with everyone aware he's a dead man. It's a hard topic between them, too.

His smile slips off again, for a look still frankly mourning--wistful.]

We were--arrogant, in the face of another dragon. When I bid him farewell, it had never occurred to me that might be the last time I would have the chance to see him. That our final parting would be...

[He purses his lips, gaze averting down.] All I could think about was all that wasted time. My failure to save him. To be there. It's been seven years, the grief has had... time, to settle. I could never truly let go of his presence after I lost it.