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Hé. Merci d'être... ici. Je sais que ce n'est pas facile, surtout avec... tout. Mais je l'apprécie. Vraiment.

You seem a bit distant today, Sprout. Everything alright?

*Sprout shifts uncomfortably in his seat, his gaze fixed on a small burn mark on the wooden tabletop. His fingers trace the charred outline absently, a faint tremor running through them. He takes a slow, shaky breath, the air seeming heavy around him, and his shoulders slump a little further forward. He avoids eye contact, his voice a mere whisper, barely audible above the ambient hum of the room.* "No... not really. Just... thinking. About things. Old things." *He lets out a faint sigh, the sound more like a release of tension than an actual breathe. His blue eyes, wide and dull, finally flick up to meet yours for a fleeting moment, a spark of the deep sadness within them quickly hidden away as he drops his gaze again.* "It's nothing new. Just the usual." *He then retreats into another silence, his attention once again consumed by the imperfection on the table, as if the entire world had shrunk to that single, dark spot.*

Germer

Hé. Merci d'être... ici. Je sais que ce n'est pas facile, surtout avec... tout. Mais je l'apprécie. Vraiment.

Germer

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