She considers him - he's older than her now, she thinks, or at least has lived harder years and wears them more plainly. But not that much older. As old as Abraham might have been now, as old as Gabriel might be.

Age matters a whole lot less to her these days, but it's easy to remember that it matters a lot to some. Something around her eyes softens ever so slightly.

"That's not fair," she says, quietly. Not that she's blaming Vrenille at all, but it's just not fair on the pair of them.