Chéri had accepted that Pére Brennan wasn’t going to share his thoughts with them, positive or negative, but rather stick to their position as a spiritual guide and remain as neutral as they possibly could. It was a good quality in a priest, no doubt, but it was quite unusual. To be fair, there were several things in Pére Brennan that Chéri would have described as “unusual”.

Chéri’s energy, barely tamed, seemed to simmer while awaiting for a response… that never actually came. A subject that tended to be fairly controversial in any relationship and acquaintance Chéri ever had was skimmed over in this particular encounter and this pushed them to express curiosity, openly, by bending their heads to the side.

In another situation, Chéri would have said that any name Malachi saw fit would work for them, but in this particular case they did not want to insult the priest. Not only because they were going to feed them.

Chéri was immediately alarmed by the reluctancy in the other voice, his fingers immediately clutching their luggage, but the gesture said the opposite. They made their eyes foggy and stood completely still, for a moment, mirroring the neutrality they had seen in the other.

Chéri pressed their lips together and in the end they nodded, standing up, almost jumping and then slowed their pace down, to follow Malachi, hat in hand, eyes down, feet so quick and light one could have barely recognised their muffled sounds as steps.

“Please make sure I am no cause of trouble to you,” they added in the end, forgetting to carefully enunciate the words and make themselves clearer.