[ Her gaze softens, upon seeing the sadness in her gaze. It looks familiar — like a look of loss, maybe, or perhaps longing. She wonders which it is, but she doesn't wish to go digging around in a wound she does not know the depth of. Her eyes meet hers, even if Barghest continues to look at the cup, her eyelids lowering. ]
Indeed, you will. Hold on to those memories of him. As tightly as you can.
[ It's soft, somber advice, which truly comes from her heart. A sincerity bleeds through — something that's melancholy in its own way. Like she, too, is carrying something with her. ]
If you do not mind, would you tell me more about him?
[ In her mind, it's a questioned asked to give Barghest the chance to refresh her memory, to repeat the traits this person must have had, so that she may better remember down the line. That, and Giselle will be hear to hear them. If Barghest were ever to forget... maybe Giselle would remember, in her stead. ]
no subject
Indeed, you will. Hold on to those memories of him. As tightly as you can.
[ It's soft, somber advice, which truly comes from her heart. A sincerity bleeds through — something that's melancholy in its own way. Like she, too, is carrying something with her. ]
If you do not mind, would you tell me more about him?
[ In her mind, it's a questioned asked to give Barghest the chance to refresh her memory, to repeat the traits this person must have had, so that she may better remember down the line. That, and Giselle will be hear to hear them. If Barghest were ever to forget... maybe Giselle would remember, in her stead. ]