It's refreshing beyond words, not to immediately face worry or concern over the bit about the coma. X doesn't begrudge anyone worry, of course, and it hasn't stopped him from explaining where he was when someone asks -- but now it's like being back with his clan, talking to someone who knows exactly what his preferences are without needing to ask. Refreshing, and a little nostalgic.

Not that X has time to be nostalgic. He and Rutile get separated through the hustle and bustle on the street, and it takes a few seconds for them to be within earshot of each other again.

"I don't know about Dreamfolk," says X, "and we'd be here all day if I told you about every end-of-year festival I know of, but... well, in my first family, we didn't have enough resources for something like this." X gestures around them, indicating all the bells, the decorations, the colour, the food. "For us, it was more a day of gratitude. Small gestures, to show one another we cared. Smoked meat. New clothes. Although oddly enough, we did have bells. Bells go very well with drums. If you had your way, what would everyone be celebrating?"