It's difficult to find the time to mourn in the chaos of the New Year, but Dinadan finds it anyway. They'd known each other since they were kids, it's the least that Jai deserves now.
Shrunk down to his normal size and dressed as the Katarthan prince he is, Dinadan crouches down in front of the fire he built on a saucer on his desktop with his sheathed sword across his knees. Normally, this would be done with the other warriors of a troupe; but if they cannot attend because they're too busy, too far away, or mourn in other ways, a fire is an appropriate partner.
Dinadan cries quietly as he tells his friend's stories to the flames.
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