Kildeer Rest cigarette daydreams

He watches Zamael approach, watches his odd expression, and he doesn't move. His thoughts are tumbling too quickly for him to grasp any, so he doesn't say anything either, not until his brother comes close enough to speak himself. His ears pin back briefly, then slowly rise again.
Yeah. Sure, He says dully, and turns away toward the Sanctuary. He's not sure if Zamael will follow; he's not sure whether he hopes he does or not. There's a deep, cold ache in his chest, and the words replay in his mind — just sort of got caught up in sightseeing. It's fine, then. It's all fine. Zamael was just sightseeing and it doesn't matter anymore — not the worry, not the fear and self-loathing, not the fact that he'd considered abandoning everything all over again, or that the decision not to had more or less launched him into a full-blown identity crisis.
No, it's fine. He'd just been sightseeing.