Broken Boulder if there were any more left of me, i'd give it to you

"Well, 'less dead' is an improvement," Zamael responded, smirking. He butted his head gently against Alarian's shoulder, then straightened again, giving a shrug in response. "Eh. Fine, I guess. Still trying to get settled in. Meet all the new faces. Get the boring stuff out of the way."

No one had been overly friendly; there was a black-furred girl who looked nice, but she didn't say anything, and a shy pale one that really dug the stars. Mottled Queenie, with her babies, was standoffish; Delight was a little better. Truth be told, Zamael had always been more of a solitary creature, anyway. He didn't need friends, here--his brother's company was more than enough.

He looked around, admiring the flowers. "Remind you of Sunfil?" he asked, unwittingly touching upon thoughts already in his brother's mind. "At least there was one bright spot in that hellhole. You could hide in the greenery. I used to love going there at night with Carv--" The name stuck in his throat, and he swallowed, glancing down. "Carvel," he finished, looking like a puppy who'd just been kicked.