[The last sentence causes Walter to pause in reminiscence, words conjuring the mental image of his partner, whose clothes could repair no matter what damage they were caused.
This being for one reason: the clothes were not truly clothes, but the vampire's own body.
Walter's expression at this memory is rather complex; slightly uncomfortable, slightly awkward, but not outright disturbed.]
...Well, the fibres are already dead. Perhaps alchemy might work?
[If alchemy could rearrange the metal in his rings to make wires, perhaps it could also rearrange fibres to mend fabric.]
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This being for one reason: the clothes were not truly clothes, but the vampire's own body.
Walter's expression at this memory is rather complex; slightly uncomfortable, slightly awkward, but not outright disturbed.]
...Well, the fibres are already dead. Perhaps alchemy might work?
[If alchemy could rearrange the metal in his rings to make wires, perhaps it could also rearrange fibres to mend fabric.]