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Herryk was silent, helplessly so, and Tuck felt a deep, unbidden sadness fill his chest. The weapon did not speak but there was a poignant ache of wanting - no, needing - to remember the emotions that Freya so obviously felt, that weighted her down like a heavy stone. He couldn't, though. He couldn't remember their relationship, this fathomless love that she spoke of, the yearning and the sadness, the feelings of inadequacy.

He couldn't remember any of it, and yet there was something so wrenchingly familiar about the ghoul that he could not help but feel a core-deep frustration that soon filled Tuck's mind with a violent, aching presence.

Tuck didn't know what to do. He wanted to kneel next to the creature, to brush that tangled blonde hair from her face, to assure her that everything was going to be okay - but on the other hand he felt stifled. Herryk's presence was so incredibly overpowering that Tuck wasn't sure that he could handle it. He didn't know if he would survive the onslaught of so many emotions all at once.

"I'm sorry," Tuck rumbled gruffly, the corners of his mouth tilting down. "I'm so sorry."

Herryk was brooding, dark and silent. Swallowing, Tuck moved to kneel next to Freya, leaning down to press a kiss to her cheek. He wasn't sure what had happened here today, and he certainly hadn't expected it, but as he pulled away to rise to his feet Tuck hoped that he could learn something about this. Something more about Herryk - and maybe something good could come of all of this.

"I will see you soon, Freya," Tuck lifted his hand to his pendant, softly mumbling a faint, "Goodbye," as he teleported back home.