( @restorationleader continued from x )
Laguna paused as Squall piped up, noting the quiet solemnity of his voice with a curious perk of his brow as he cast green eyes back over his shoulder. He had to remind himself that Ellone had worked her magic on the boy — well, on the both of them really — dropping Squall and his friends in on some strange and fragmented parts of the Galbadian’s life; the little faeries that tickled at the back of his mind, listening... watching... knowing things without being told. He wondered how much Squall knew about this place and the people who had once lived here. The person who had once lived here.
“Not so long, actually,” he prompted with a small smile, hands stuffed in his pockets as they walked, stones turning to dirt as the spacing of the buildings thinned along the roadway leading away from downtown. “Made a stop back a couple of years ago, but didn’t stay long — didn’t bother going even going in to town really,” he admitted with just a touch of something unspoken to his tone, turning his gaze ahead once more. “There’s only one place here that still interests me,” he pointed ahead to a small shop on the left with a wafting fragrance that carried on the breeze. “Let’s stop in here a minute? It shouldn’t take long,” he reassured him.
The truth of the matter was Squall had been his first and only choice to bring along on this little trip. His own motives were still a bit unclear, even to himself, but something inside him knew it needed to be done — that he owed Squall that much, even if the young man would never demand it or expect it of him.
