[ it's... weird, hearing that someone empathizes with his plight. losing a loved one is commonplace in the city he's from, and stories like his are a dime a dozen. there's nothing special about death and dying the more you're exposed to it, after all.

he's silent for a while, as he gets himself together and closes his eyes. when he speaks, his voice is low, slightly trembling, and reverent. ]

"...You are like those who never left
the sad fireside corner of my poor black heart."

[ another deep breath, another deep exhale as he opens his eyes and faces daan. ]

Mm. I feel a bit better now. A bit headache-y, but... Thank you, doc. You patched me up just fine.