Need to fancy it up

He didn’t expect the grieving Dasos to give him comfort, but she did so easily and without hesitation. An understanding hemming from a similar tragedy. As he made light of the windchimes he was prepared to make, she answered as if his question had been serious. Pointing out that Artorias wouldn’t regret it at all. No, Mercy had a feeling Art would have nothing but understanding for the tradition.

“As am I” Mercury said softly, raising his other paw over his and hers, and giving hers a responding squeeze. “We must.” he said simply as she spoke of getting through it. “If we are all that’s left of them, then we must let something of them live on.” Who else would remember his mischievous sister, or his overly stern eldest brother? He gently pushed the finished windchime to the side as he realised Anthea was crying as well. Her grief was even more raw then his own, and he pulled her gently into a hug. Saying nothing when he knew words wouldn’t be enough.


"Speech"