the monsters turned out to be just trees

hope keeps us breathing, just to kill us in the end

"No." Remi disagreed in that same soft, but sure voice. "For you at least, nothing has changed. You wiped away your scars. Let this be one as well." The alchemist's wing pressure increased. He'd slide it behind and around Loren if he could, though his feathers were delicate and wouldn't endure being forced between bone and rock, so he'd not force it. "Telling me does not make it any different for you." For me it does. It does worlds over and over again. "So stay. Please." If he thought he could get away with saying Don't leave again without it sounding like an accusation, he would have. Instead he continued to simply try and flex his wing around Loren, tears still brimming in his eyes though the summoner's had dried up.