[The video feed cuts on to Irial sprawled in the grass, his shirt riding up from the run through Espoir, a freshly lit cigarette in his left hand, the Dreamberry cradled in his right. He's eying the screen like he can see whoever is on the other end before they actually pick up. And because he likes being watched, the dark faery smiles, exhaling
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Aya.
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How have you been?
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[Crushes the cigarette, sitting up]
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Have you. I... I'm glad you're okay. And I'm sorry for my brother.
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I guess I am. I-- I'd like be friends, still. Even if...
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No touching, though. I... I don't want a repeat of history.
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I'm sorry.
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Love... Irial, how long has it been for you since you last saw me?
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Too long.
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Given that touch isn't possible anymore... Would it be easier for you to not see me at all?
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Is that what you will of me?
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