It was probably wise to stray away from further knowledge. Some of it might have been comforting, some not so much. It was not a temptation that J'mon would have advised him to follow. But Gilmore had always seemed to have a good head on his shoulders, and it didn't surprise them much to see him withstand that temptation. Perhaps someday, someone he knew a little better would arrive and fill him in on the missing pieces. But the only thing J'mon could offer to begin with was second-hand accounts - and some of those were wildly dramatized.
"Always stories," J'mon smiled, "whether you are tongue-tied when you tell them or not. I am sure that they will be wonderful stories all the same." And that was, really, their lifeblood. Everything they were gravitated towards the storytellers and the adventurers who promised to return to Ank'harel with tales of their voyages. It truly sustained them, the way food and water sustained others.
J'mon slowly turned their hand over under Gilmore's and brushed their nails and the pads of their fingers across his palm. "That is an awfully tall order to fill," they smirked. "But I have no doubt at all that you can accomplish it." There was a very strong urge to see that promise fulfilled now, but J'mon wasn't the kind to rush, and the anticipation would make it all the better in the end. But they could still indulge in Gilmore's adoring looks and the warmth of his hand.