The question almost catches the Fool off-guard, and he stares back at Devin in bemused silence until, finally: “A cup of tea would be wonderful.”

A simple earthly pleasure, and a task to keep his overwrought lover’s hands and mind occupied as the waters of this emotional deluge begin to recede some. The Fool needs a moment to collect himself anyway, and to take in the state of their apartment, such as it is. Boxes of his belongings remain unpacked where he left them when they first took occupancy of this place together; it pains him to see the evidence of Devin’s grief so clearly on display here, but if their places were reversed, the Fool would undoubtedly have lapsed into depression in his own way.

Holly wastes no time in trotting up to the Fool and vaulting herself up onto his shoulder where she belongs, and the Fool smiles fondly at the little creature, stroking the underside of her chin as she purrs. “I hope she didn’t give you any trouble,” he notes to Devin wryly, but already he has begun to wander towards the window for a glimpse outside, to see what about the city has changed in his absence.