How many times had he heard the same sentiment from his best friend's lips, and just returned it with a glare, or a grin, or a quip? He couldn't say.

Right now, he can't help but feel weighed down by his own age, insignificant as it is. There's no glares now, nor grins or quips, just silent acceptance that that's how Illyria views him.

The halfbreed bit is new, though.

"I already did, but it was gone until I could catch up with it. It took Summers and left me in the streets. I don't need to see it to be able to smell it."

...he could smell it. I could--!

"Thanks, Illyria." He gives her a small smile, eyes glinting with sudden epiphany. "You've been a great help."