[The desire to go home is, if nothing else, one he can understand. True, there's hardly much left of his home, and even though Garlemald still lives on (albeit absent the Empire, now) it has a long way to go before things are even remotely back to how they were before the destruction wrought by both civil war and the ungracious hands of Anima's creator.
(He believes - he hopes - that Garlemald will be able to rise from the ashes. But he knows too that it's not going to be an easy path and it's rougher than he'd have expected, to not be there to help.)
He doesn't expect the drawing she gives him, through he takes it when he hands it to her, and when he sees what it's a sketch of he can't hide the way tears rise into his eyes, nor the emotion in his voice.]
Thank you. It's... more than I would have expected.
[It's not much, perhaps. But it's still a way to remember them as they had been, once. Before he'd been forced into things he still wishes hadn't been necessary.]
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(He believes - he hopes - that Garlemald will be able to rise from the ashes. But he knows too that it's not going to be an easy path and it's rougher than he'd have expected, to not be there to help.)
He doesn't expect the drawing she gives him, through he takes it when he hands it to her, and when he sees what it's a sketch of he can't hide the way tears rise into his eyes, nor the emotion in his voice.]
Thank you. It's... more than I would have expected.
[It's not much, perhaps. But it's still a way to remember them as they had been, once. Before he'd been forced into things he still wishes hadn't been necessary.]