( For what it's worth, he does listen, and he is quiet for some moments, too, when Ryuki is done.
Though it is worse on the one left behind, to mourn and missed - looking at Syrlya, and Ryuki - it feels a little less lonely for the one who's gone ahead. At least, it is right now - while he's still himself to feel these feelings, while he's still himself to recall their names. )
... I do wonder if Adelis felt that way.
( He reaches out and fluffs Ryuki's hair, as he did before. He wonders if Adelis felt the same after he was gone, or if he moved past him with better ease. Adelis was strong - he probably could. Mishka knows this about him. )
Still. It is a shame for your loss. I had a mentor once, myself, but... ( Considering Ryuki had to soft restart at the mention of bugs, he isn't really sure it's worth getting into this. ) I suppose, now that you mention it, I never truly let him go, either.
( Left him framed and pinned and wriggling on his wall, like an insect. Unable to leave - unable to fully die. Penance, maybe, for his cruelty; but some strange sign of affection, still. He could not go anywhere. Every evening Mishka would great him, and smile at his useless, blackened limbs.
He wonders what they've done with him, now that Mishka is gone. Perhaps he's dead, he considers. It feels a little hard to acknowledge it. )
no subject
Though it is worse on the one left behind, to mourn and missed - looking at Syrlya, and Ryuki - it feels a little less lonely for the one who's gone ahead. At least, it is right now - while he's still himself to feel these feelings, while he's still himself to recall their names. )
... I do wonder if Adelis felt that way.
( He reaches out and fluffs Ryuki's hair, as he did before. He wonders if Adelis felt the same after he was gone, or if he moved past him with better ease. Adelis was strong - he probably could. Mishka knows this about him. )
Still. It is a shame for your loss. I had a mentor once, myself, but... ( Considering Ryuki had to soft restart at the mention of bugs, he isn't really sure it's worth getting into this. ) I suppose, now that you mention it, I never truly let him go, either.
( Left him framed and pinned and wriggling on his wall, like an insect. Unable to leave - unable to fully die. Penance, maybe, for his cruelty; but some strange sign of affection, still. He could not go anywhere. Every evening Mishka would great him, and smile at his useless, blackened limbs.
He wonders what they've done with him, now that Mishka is gone. Perhaps he's dead, he considers. It feels a little hard to acknowledge it. )