"Rarely. Some things stick, but - too many empty spaces to make a pattern."

Still. Maybe the things that resonated the most did so for a reason, beyond minds having their own strange whims. He closes his eyes, and sinks into the steady warmth around him. It feels - safer, in this moment, to reach deeper again.

"I remember - years ago, I think before the war even started - there was a tree. With petals that faded to nothing right before they reached the ground, and branches that reached into the stars..."