Scirocco found himself worrying about his new friend. About the grief that seemed to roost somewhere inside Ashura, peeking out between sentences or slipped smiles. He listened quietly to the explanation about the shamisen, wondered what it sound like, and found himself drifting off slowly. He rested against his pack, briefly, and arranged his bedding. The night was warm enough, that much was true. "I would be honoured to hear you sing in the morning," Scirocco said, lying on his side to watch Ashura through half-lidded eyes.

"He is .. active, most definitely. Without a doubt," Scir said, sighing, a wry smile across his lips. His brother was chaotic in his activity, flitting from activity to activity with scarcely a pause for breath. It was a little like trying to monitor a young spirit, how if you took your eyes off them for a second he would race off into oblivion.

Scirocco thought, idly, about the Holy Beasts. "The truth of the matter is that I have never before even considered why they are 'holy'. Now, however, I suppose I shall have to collect stories. Perhaps you would stay with me for a while, so that I may help answer your question?..." Scirocco asked, smiling. His eyes were closing more frequently, and he spoke for a little while without opening them. When Ashura suggested repairing what was broken was a fulfilling occupation, Scirocco merely smiled; he respected his brother's desire to work with the tangible and create something beautiful or useful out of that which others might discard. It didn't occur to him, the idea of repairing hearts. Scirocco was polite to everyone, gentle, kind...but he seldom exposed his heart. Around Lemon, he relaxed. Ashura had a relaxing effect on him, as well. With Ashura nearby, Scirocco felt like sleep was a warm, soft embrace. He was eager to join it, somehow, as much as he wanted to stay awake to enjoy Ashura's new company.

The melody definitely drained him, but it felt like it had opened space within him. A cavern he had left empty all this time, and he felt as though Ashura was walking into that empty space while he spoke. Before he succumbed to sleep, Scirocco sat up and pulled out some of his spare bedding: a quilted pillow, a soft blanket from woven fibres dyed a rich red. He offered them to Ashura, in case he didn't have the right supplies for the weather. "If you get cold, let me know? Wake me, and I'll build the tent," he stated, making sure to make eye contact with Ashura and obtain an agreement. Then, he settled back, using his pack as a kind of lumpy pillow, with the blanket pulled over him. He turned onto his side again, facing Ashura, though his eyes closed. Scirocco spoke then as if in a dream state, his voice distant, warm. "Yes... I am afraid I require rest. However, in the morning, we may journey out together, if you find that arrangement acceptable." He opened his heavy lids and smiled softly, eyes glazed with sleep, and raised one hand. A warm breeze brushed the side of Ashura's face, almost tenderly. Scirocco closed his eyes, mumbling, "I wouldn't mind tiring myself out, if it was for you."

And Scirocco was fast asleep.