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The Kid’s guilty of two things: he’s a terrible packrat and he dispenses kisses and physical contact instead of words sometimes.
Words are… difficult. Finding the right ones sometimes, and they clutter the air up when silence would be better. Don’t get him wrong; he’s good at turns of phrase, witty comments as sharp as zulwood when the occasion calls for it, but if he can communicate support by leaning over one night around the campfire and pressing lips to Zulf’s temple, he’d prefer to do it rather than break the round silence of air and crackling wood from the fire.
Zulf stares at him like he’s grown anklegator teeth, and he can’t help but grin a little at the look, pitches his voice low, “Pecker got your tongue?”
Zulf flushes red, bristles, hisses, “Why did you do that?” to him, subconsciously mindful of attracting Zia’s attention from where she’s feeding the pets and Rucks’, who’s already gone to bed.
The Kid shrugs. “You looked like you needed it. You think much harder your brain’ll steam outta your ears.”
Zulf presses his lips together but doesn’t respond, and both of them skirt around unspoken words, discussing what they’d both left behind in Evacuation over Restoration.
“I hope you’ll forgive me,” the Kid eventually says, aims his words at the stars overhead. He can feel Zulf’s confusion and attention on him, and clarifies with, “For bringing you back.” He’d taken the choice from him, in the wake of… everything, and that in a way felt like a betrayal as large as Zulf’s destruction of the Monument.
The confusion ebbs, and the Kid chances a look at the Ura.
“You’re more than forgiven,” Zulf finally says, and sounds almost surprised at the words and how they sit on his tongue. The tension ebbs from the Kid’s shoulders, and that only solidifies Zulf’s impression of his words’ honesty: he really has forgiven the Kid for bringing him back.
“Thank you.” The Kid fidgets for a moment longer, then slaps his knees and stands, bidding Zulf goodnight. He’ll be jumping a skyway tomorrow, and he needs the rest for the inevitable fight ahead.
He leaves the campfire, and the rest of what they could say lies silent in the air.