Herbalists' Cache didn't have a dime but i always had a vision

Listening to his sister's rambling is easy enough; making sense of it fast enough to keep up with her is another story entirely. He almost snorts out a laugh when she starts listing off the most ridiculous names — Seabreeze, Delight? He chokes on the laugh and tries to pass it as a cough, only to break off abruptly with her next words. And you're sure he's real? He can't help but tease — but he's happy for her. I guess I've got to visit, now — I have to see this for myself. Tell him to run while he still can. This kind of banter makes him miss his friends, suddenly and fiercely, and his expression changes almost imperceptibly, sobering just slightly; it's subtle, only a slight falling of his mouth that was just barely curved upward, a dying of light in his gaze. But it's there. His heart still aches for that chapter of his life, however long gone it may be.