“I'm sorry, Scott.” And in the moment, feeling the worry and distress in the rabbit pulse of his heart, he truly was. It shamed him to have been the source of his master's worst nightmares, some of which could be heard in the words he didn't speak, while others were plain to see in the depths of his eyes. He knew, too, beyond the shadow of a doubt that the incident which led to his beloved diavoletto's disappearance haunted his master still. It was difficult to believe the depths to which some people would sink just to watch an innocent young man break, yet every day a brilliant light winked out forever for the amusement of others. Alcuin had come to terms with that fact by now, but his master was young and his pain was so very raw and unkempt, just as his had been only months ago. “I'm so sorry.”
His eyes were wet with tears when he pulled back. “It's the longest night of the year tonight,” he explained, bowing his head low to hide the flush of embarrassment on his face. “My people celebrate this night most often with drink and revelry, but there are those who choose instead to make offerings and hold vigil here, in the shrine of the Blessed Elua.”