Where are you going?

There's no burgeoning wonder, no event horizon of hope nestled in the sentiment. Just loss, virtually endless. Doubt, anxiety, fracturing into different end points whose trajectories he can trace in all their infinite potential but never know, never really know the true pathway of.

Then again, truth is always relative. He supposes he would know.

I don't know.

"I'll be around," he says with a small, tight smile. "If you need anything - anything at all."