Such wisdom from one so young. "No," he says quietly. "All anyone can do is move forward, right?

"I would never," he assures her. It's in line with what they've both just said, really: pity focuses on the past, on lamenting over what's done and can't be changed. Pity inhibits progress. No, Devero won't pity her, not this eleven year old girl who's trying to offer him comfort.

He sits back on his heels and lets his hands drop. "I'm Devero, he/him," he says. "I'm sorry, I don't think I caught your name before we moved out." There had been introductions of a haphazard, rushed sort while they were still in the great white holding bay, but, uh, Dev's kind of bad at names.