tell her to find me an acre of land

let's not get lost in the dark blue

Remi exhales softly through his nose, and at her question, his lips press together for a moment, as if he’s considering how to answer, before he steps forward and lowers himself onto the bench beside her. The wood creaks faintly under his weight, his wings shifting slightly before settling again, tucked in close. "Mort sent me," he murmurs, dragging his fingers lightly over the grain of the bench as he stares out at the village before them. "Or, I suppose, Vi did. I need to collect soil." He doesn't explain why, not yet, but there’s something heavy in his voice, something weighted in the way he says it.

Only after a breath does he tilt his head toward her, his seaglass gaze tracing the tension in her posture, the quiet weariness settling into the corners of her expression. "And you?" His voice is quieter now, softer, though no less steady. "I didn’t expect to find you here."

There’s something unspoken beneath his words—because the last time they talked, she had been so certain, hadn’t she? Certain that she had to stay in the Grounds, that she owed it to herself, to the people there. And yet, here she was, as lost in thought as he was. Maybe even just lost in general.

But darling if we do, just find me, and I'll find you