[Byleth's mouth curved into a very brief smile, partly relieved that his joke, as shaky as it had been, had landed well, and the deeper meaning beneath it had been recieved loud and clear. Well, he was assuming that, judging by Shez's response and the friendly forehead bump... that was a sign of acceptance and affection wasn't it? If cat behaviour was similar to humans in this scenario...]
I will...
[The response was barely audible, his voice just barely above a whisper. He ducked his head slightly, his fingers curling around his whistle as he teetered in this strange moment: Byleth was no stranger to fear in its basest sense - the sort that was hardwired into any living creature with a pulse and a functioning self-preservation instincts - but in terms of the heart? Of a nebulous future? Of something that didn't have a defined shape like 'death' or 'failure'? Byleth struggled to truly compartmentalise it, felt it balloon inside his chest cavity until it felt like it strained against the inside of his ribcage...
But the weight of the whistle around his neck... it was the same as it had always been, yet... different too. It eased that fear, as if that etching Shez had bestowed upon it had carved his optimism and unflagging confidence into its very grains, infused into the wood, until it was like some sort of... good luck charm. No- that sounded too trite. It was... a talisman against fear... a comfort item...?
He'll figure out the correct phrasing later. For now:]
I will. [Again, firmer, louder, more confident.] If- when we return to our worlds, I promise to be there.
[And, slowly, he extended his hand, the one that held the duplicate whistle with the fresh carving of his initial upon it.]
So long as you promise not to get lost on our way back.
[And he meant more in the geographical sense. He knew first hand how Kenos would warp people, twist them in ways he never thought possible... while Byleth thus far had staunchly remained in Meridian, despite his Zenith sympathies, he knew there was always a chance others, like Claude, like Dimitri, or even Shez, would switch sides. Would get lost on their way.]
no subject
I will...
[The response was barely audible, his voice just barely above a whisper. He ducked his head slightly, his fingers curling around his whistle as he teetered in this strange moment: Byleth was no stranger to fear in its basest sense - the sort that was hardwired into any living creature with a pulse and a functioning self-preservation instincts - but in terms of the heart? Of a nebulous future? Of something that didn't have a defined shape like 'death' or 'failure'? Byleth struggled to truly compartmentalise it, felt it balloon inside his chest cavity until it felt like it strained against the inside of his ribcage...
But the weight of the whistle around his neck... it was the same as it had always been, yet... different too. It eased that fear, as if that etching Shez had bestowed upon it had carved his optimism and unflagging confidence into its very grains, infused into the wood, until it was like some sort of... good luck charm. No- that sounded too trite. It was... a talisman against fear... a comfort item...?
He'll figure out the correct phrasing later. For now:]
I will. [Again, firmer, louder, more confident.] If- when we return to our worlds, I promise to be there.
[And, slowly, he extended his hand, the one that held the duplicate whistle with the fresh carving of his initial upon it.]
So long as you promise not to get lost on our way back.
[And he meant more in the geographical sense. He knew first hand how Kenos would warp people, twist them in ways he never thought possible... while Byleth thus far had staunchly remained in Meridian, despite his Zenith sympathies, he knew there was always a chance others, like Claude, like Dimitri, or even Shez, would switch sides. Would get lost on their way.]