Sun Mote Copse mention our ghosts, our knotted spines

we can wrap up here-ish unless you wanna go one more round!

welcome to tindómë, and oh, that's a pretty good feeling the wisp thinks. it feels almost like - like cheating, to so quickly immerse himself into something new, something good, but hey, he deserves it, and he cracks a rare and genuine grin, something toothy and fleeting. "sure thing," del says, then ducks his head and adds, "uh, thank you," because he's not a complete mannerless oaf. he'll need to figure out a trade, and soon, because looking at the silvery prince and his .. friend, delight finds himself very lacking. he wants to redeem himself (of what? of absolutely nothing, or of being a survivor?) - prove himself, that's a better phrase, and he will. "you'll find it," he echoes, not including himself - yet - because he's unsure of the boundaries there - he doesn't wanna be a third wheel. but he'll stick around, chart a similar course. he'll follow mato wherever he needs to go.