[ As she watches his expression shift from peaceful to concerned, she makes another pass of her fingers across his forehead. ] Good... I-- ...good. [ She repeats, quieter this time. ]

I only want you to feel that it's okay to let others know, or just walk away, if you feel as if they're treating you as less.

[ That sort of toxicity in his life-- he doesn't need it, and she remembers how tightly he had returned one day to their home only to bring her into a hug, the strength of which may have been proportionate to how much he had been hurt. ] What you say... what you feel. It matters. [ To Bahamut, maybe it doesn't, maybe as a child he was led to believe that he didn't, when his father had so much more on his shoulders, and perhaps as an adult he feels the same that the world is so much more. The world is important, but that doesn't make what he feels invalid or any less. ]