"Sometimes, there really is no difference in want and need," he tells her, happy just to hold her against him. "I am glad that it is over, though. The flooding."
"I have moments, here. It's been...hard though, since my boyfriend was removed from the Barge." She bit her lip. "It feels like I've mourned him once and now I'm doing it again."
"I don't know much about grief," he admits softly. "But I know about loss. And I know that you are hurting. It is - hard to outlive everything you hold dear."
"It isn't hard for me," he assures her. "Human emotions are relatively new to me. The loss I felt was a gentle one. It always hurt when a species would go extinct. Sometimes it needed to happen, but I felt the loss. Vertumna did. Every time."
"Oh no. They haven't died yet but - " He shakes his head. "I have learned so much from them. Their names are Sol and Dys. Dys and I have been friends for many years, since he was still a juvenile. He used to sneak out of their enclosure and wander the land and I decided to try and keep him safe. He wanted to know more about the world, wanted to live amongst it instead of trying to make it bend to his will."
"But you're not with them." Her voice was soft, and she ended up pressing her lips against his cheek. And she murmured, "I like Dys. He liked the land too."
"Me, too. I like him very much," he agrees. "But there was an anger in him. An anger towards the other humans he lived with. Sol was his only friend, but - he kept them at a distance, too."
"The same reason we were angry with them only...he had the added misery of feeling like he was going against his own people." He gently strokes her hair, toying with the ends. "He and I had that in common."
He smiles and happily obliges, taking his time as he does. "Ah, of course. Is there a significance to it?" he wonders. Not because he's avoiding the other topic but because he wants her to feel comfortable.
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"Don't be sorry," he says softly against her. "I like the novelty of reading, but it can wait."
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"Me too. I was..." She shook her head and nestled up to him. "I don't know."
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"Happy." Her voice was soft. "Those lives were happy."
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She felt some tears spill over, but her voice was steady. "And then I came here, and he was here and alive and...he's still alive. But not...here."
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"He's alive now, but I- can't handle the grief of leaving him, if I could find him again. I keep...losing people, alive and dead."
Her voice creaked. "It must be so hard for you too. I'm so sorry you have that Sym."
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"I would too, in your place." She tried to rally herself. "I know sometimes it's needed but sometimes...it still hurts, when they go."
She moved to press her forehead against Sym's cheek.
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A beat and- "if you want to take out my braid, I don't mind. Just not the ribbon on the top please."
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