[ He pulls them closer when they arch up into it, the warmth between them a relaxing thing. Or, rather, he hopes that it’s as relaxing for Siffrin as it is for him. So, he’ll run his fingers back down their spine, slowly, almost contemplatively. ]

There would still be time to share, wouldn’t there? ‘Tis never too late for that sort of thing, and I assure you that they would be glad for it, even at journey’s end.

[ But he gets it, then, if there are things not even Siffrin recalls sharing. It’s a bit of a terrifying thought, too, one that leaves him wondering what he’s shared in the loops here that none of them remember. ]

I understand, however… that there are things you cannot claim again, as lost to the wind as they are.

[ That he can still share parts of himself after the fact doesn’t rid Siffrin of the pain of things lost. ]