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"Soft? No, mia cara - you are not soft. When you say soft, what you mean is... weak, is it not? You are not weak. With your... your last breath, prior to your waking with the Bogeymen, the last thing you did was come to me, to protect me, even though doing so caused you great pain." It spoke so quietly, voice barely above a whisper. "I have seen you do the most astonishing things - you bested a number of Horsemen of War in combat trials, engaged in conversation and machinations with the Heir of Conquest. Your ambition is great. And your courage..."

It no longer had the journal, but it knew the words she'd written by heart, now. "You defied everything you knew in reaching out to us. Reaching out to me. That is not the act of a soft and weak being, mia cara." As Luce thumped her tail against the floor, licking Riley's face and resting her chin on the mindflayer's shoulders, Malodore opened its beak in a faint smile.

"You need not be as you were before - in fact, you cannot be so, just as I am no longer the Malodore I was before. We have both changed, in different ways, for different reasons... and there is no shame in that, I am learning. I had good teachers," it added, remembering Celeste's words. "Not understanding... there is no shame in that, either. You will learn, and you will make decisions based on what you learn, and you will become yourself. Whatever that means, in the end. I am grateful to have a second chance."

"Si-" it began, and then its voice faltered and fell silent at the look in her eyes. It just watched her, unable to move - not wanting to move. Mia cara? it asked, a featherlight brush against her thoughts.

And then, -oh-, at the touch of her 'kiss'. The touch it had missed so much. It could have wept, at that moment; it did tremble, reaching for her, bending forward to brush the tip of its beak against her cheek. It had no words, just a rising and overwhelming sense of gratitude and affection, its love only tempered by its desire not to force her into anything.

A sense that she was perfect, just the way she was, in this moment.

There would have been a time - a mere two hours ago! - when the past tense on loved would have driven the plague doctor into the depths of despair. Now, however, it did nothing of the kind, only provoking the faintest pang, easily flattened. Past tense did not mean never...

... and, in fact, Malodore was immensely looking forward to this rediscovery.

"... Ah," it said, as she reminded it; it blinked, as if it had entirely forgotten. Which was at least partially true. "Si, of course..." Luce had moved off to the side, recognizing who the affection was for and not putting herself in the middle; she thumped her tail as Malodore looked in her direction. "Luce can take Ombra back to my room, at least." Slowly, it rose to its feet, holding its hands out to help her up at well.

"We could both use some lint rollers," it added, ruefully, looking at the white fur that now decorated its clothing.

Before Riley stood, Luce wagged her tail, meeting the mindflayer's gaze without hesitation. She licked where Riley's nose would have been, had she possessed one, then slid over and laid down next to Ombra once released, putting her chin down on the floor but keeping her ears perked up as she watched her two favorite people move about.

"Assolutamente," Malodore said, with a wry amusement in its voice. "While I removed a number of items from your room, I did not see much sentimental value in a lint-roller... though I did get a few ideas, when I went back and saw what I had collected. Reminded myself, rather."

"I left something outside," it said, mysteriously. "Nothing terribly grandiose, of course, given that I didn't have much time to plan... but, I assure you, next time I do have time to plan..."

It paused by the window, one claw idly tracing along the double-row of scratches it had made, so long ago. The edges had been sanded down by now, of course. "If all things are new, then I shall delight in them no less than you," it said, softly. "Just... promise me, you will stop me if I am being too... too strong, in my eagerness? Our strength is in our balance, and if that balance is gone, then so, too, is our strength. You will tell me, mia cara?"

It chuckled, amused. "Then I shall fetch it at once, mia cara. One moment..." It looked back at the door, speculatively, and it glanced back at her with an impish air. "I do not believe I shall give signore Vek the pleasure of discomfiting me again, however..."

Malodore bent down and opened the box with the chain-link, folding ladder beneath the window. Pushing the window open, it let the ladder unfurl over the sill, clanking as it fell to the ground. Then, lightly, folding its wings tight to avoid clipping the window frame, it hurried down the ladder, heading for a set of bushes just below.

There hadn't been much left at the florist, but it had managed to procure three fairly perfect dead roses. These it pulled forth from its hiding place in the bush before scurrying back to the ladder, holding the flowers in its beak to free up its hands for climbing. It peered up at her, emanating mischief.

Malodore quickly climbed back through the window; one wingspar caught on the frame, and it made an annoyed sound before freeing itself. Once both hooves were back on solid floor, it retrieved the flowers from its beak and offered them to her. "I am afraid the prom tonight had quite depleted the selection, but I thought these would suit, for now," it said, opening its beak in a smile.