Screened by her hair, Scout's dæmon-twirrl opens his mouth and closes it on her ear, gently, reminding her without words that she has to keep it together. She's always got to keep herself in check.

She straightens her spine and lets her tail curl in an arc down to near her feet. "I appreciate that, Papyrus. This is better. I'm not sure it's good enough."

Here, now, it's more about her. Scout keeps wanting to tell people this or that. She still dearly loves a way of life and a people that are lost, or nearly, and it's hard to keep quiet sometimes. It would hurt to be open about it all.

"But maybe a little. Still, though - I'd want to hear your stories too. You can cry around me. I won't mind if you don't when I cry."