For a farmboy, Bayard is being exquisitely careful with Linden's bones. A small smile cracks his face to see something so deeply personal respected to an extent that Linden couldn't really expect from an Offworlder. But he understands; that much is clear, even if their upbringings and their definitions of "plenty" are very different.

"I don't know about spirits, but they're reminders. Like the clothes," he says, tilting his head. "You spoke of the older one you didn't know, and your mother, but what about the younger one? How old did she get?"

His interest is as genuine as Bayard's respect; the objects mean little, but talk is the catalyst for the spirits of the dead to actually find a place to nestle and live again, if only briefly.