His ears flicked, and Nate tilted his head a little, appraising her with the squint of a man looking directly into the sun. The end of day was caught behind his fur, though, haloing an otherwise shadowed face.

This one's really aiming to channel her namesake. He thought. Blinked. And decided not to ask the first question that sprang to mind at her philosophizing.

Instead he answered, Well, not quite as long as you — sounds like.

He turned his nose forward, staring off at something distant, Truth be told, I never really minded not knowing. Sometimes I think it's better that way.

A shrug, Not sure what I'd do with myself if I ever looked up at the stars and realized I had nothin' to ask 'em. That bit between the question and the answer? He smiled at her, the distance in his eyes not impeding the tired warmth of his gesture, Hard to be lonely, there, Ma'am.

Yeah. If Nate hadn't known he was dead, he might still be looking for a way back to Eleanore. All he had now was the cold, brutal certainty that none of his dreams would come true.

His lip quirked. Still the smile, but like it weighed heavier on him to offer the thing. He chuckled, and said like a tease, The answer's never been much good to me.