"...Grieve that he's gone, Fool, but you don't need to go looking for burdens to bear and to beat yourself with. It would serve no purpose."
"Guilt of this nature seldom does." The Fool's agreement is soft, introspective; it doesn't quite counter Devin's words, but neither does it seek to affirm them. For several long, quiet moments, he sits in silence across from Devin and seems to feel no need to fill the intervening time with conversation. (With feelings like these, sometimes it is necessary to just sit with them a while, rather than try to sort them out.) It presents quite the marked departure from their first meeting in the busy festival streets a few months ago, where the Fool seemed rather incapable of letting any silence in to fill the empty spaces. But they had been strangers to each other then, and his artless whimsy was as much a mask and defence mechanism as Devin's surly reticence. Now the space is welcome and acknowledged. It is just enough to let the light in.
After a time, he quirks a vague smile and lifts his chin. "I will try to do this," he decides, as if it were so easy. It isn't, of course, but saying the words aloud make his commitment to trying something that seems tangible. To clarify, he gives an idle gesture with one hand. "To--let it go." His hand moves to the side of his neck and settles there. "And to be better to those around me in this world, here and now. I suppose if there is any lesson to be gleaned from this, that is it."
no subject
"Guilt of this nature seldom does." The Fool's agreement is soft, introspective; it doesn't quite counter Devin's words, but neither does it seek to affirm them. For several long, quiet moments, he sits in silence across from Devin and seems to feel no need to fill the intervening time with conversation. (With feelings like these, sometimes it is necessary to just sit with them a while, rather than try to sort them out.) It presents quite the marked departure from their first meeting in the busy festival streets a few months ago, where the Fool seemed rather incapable of letting any silence in to fill the empty spaces. But they had been strangers to each other then, and his artless whimsy was as much a mask and defence mechanism as Devin's surly reticence. Now the space is welcome and acknowledged. It is just enough to let the light in.
After a time, he quirks a vague smile and lifts his chin. "I will try to do this," he decides, as if it were so easy. It isn't, of course, but saying the words aloud make his commitment to trying something that seems tangible. To clarify, he gives an idle gesture with one hand. "To--let it go." His hand moves to the side of his neck and settles there. "And to be better to those around me in this world, here and now. I suppose if there is any lesson to be gleaned from this, that is it."