It seems the portrait affected him more than she'd realized, and she winces as he tosses the canvas aside. In silence, Rem watches him stand and turn to leave. She takes this as a sign he wishes for a moment to collect himself. Even if... she believes in a moment like this, one should not be alone. Unfortunately, she doesn't know him better enough to push him further.

Rem turns to look at the abandoned portrait, wistful. She hesitates, fingers fidgeting with the clasp of her cloak, and then walks over to it, leaning down to collect it from the ground. Carefully, she brushes off some of the dirt from its side, frowning as she glances over the painting. She'd meant what she'd said earlier. The golden eyes are striking... But perhaps because of that, she'd missed something obvious: the loss held within them.

She looks up from the painting, watching his back as he walks away. Just in case he'll wish for it later, she'll keep it in the meantime.


Later, he'll receive the following private message:

I'm sorry about earlier.

If you ever want to talk, I'm here. I can't promise to understand everything, but I'll listen if you ever do. Whatever you have to say, it's worth telling, if you want. It's worth hearing.

And if not with her, then with someone else. He's worth listening to, she thinks. It's always worth listening to others, no matter what they have to say.

There will be tea and some cookies outside of his cabin door later, as well.