Kira lingers at the picture, taking in the obvious skill. The paper looks handmade, the shading seems more interesting than a dog and crow really deserve. There's an actual composition to it, not some seated portrait, but a drawing.

It isn't something he's been around long enough to comment on, but he turns away--relieved, in a way. Someone's got Bodhi's back, regardless of whatever's been lost between them. "It's nice," he says, wondering if he ever commented on it--last time. Bodhi's reaction to him, the dog and the bird--more than anything else so far, they're forcing him to accept the possibility. He was here, people knew him.

What he's meant to do about it, he has no fucking idea, but acceptance must be part of the process. "Are the earthquakes common," he asks, drifting back over to some useful, instructive orbit.