"Okay," Davian managed to get out, throat tight with emotion he didn't know how to handle. It was an eruptive mixture of fear, elation, sadness, and rage. The one time in his life that he wanted to do something, and there was nothing for him to do. There was nothing an exiled teenage sloth demon could help with. All he could do was wait.
Wait - and listen to everyone tell him to be glad, be happy, be satisfied that Ambriel was alive. How dare they tell him how to feel in this situation. Did none of them understand what Ambriel meant to him? Did none of them see? But what, really and honestly, could he actually do?
Sleep.
Davian crawled back into his bed when Paxton was gone and shut his eyes tightly as the tears flowed and he eventually found a restless sleep.