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[Valerius may not be familiar with Draconic itself, but Qilby’s tone tells him all he needs to know. The beast’s little experiment was a success. He can practically hear the indignance of being abandoned even if the Eliatrope refuses to convey it in his words. For all the power of his mask of numbness, the old man is almost as vulnerable to loneliness as Valerius is to boredom. Kindred spirits indeed. He wears the most disgusting shit-eating grin during the foreign tirade, then makes a note to pick through memories of such language later.]

[Feeling satisfied, and a bit amorous (he actually missed these little interactions for quite some time.) He tugs Qilby closer to himself by the beard, presses a kiss to his nose, and replaces his glasses for him. I knew you’d miss me. He doesn’t say, and is almost disappointed that they haven’t developed a telepathic connection yet. Perhaps in a few centuries…]

[He replies cheerfully, in that ever-disturbing sing-song tone of his. As he does so, something dripping appears in one of his gesturing hands--revealing a massive lump of stasis-soaked sin.]

Only a plethora of positively purulent planets ripe for the reaping; And not a single one touched by yours truly...except for sample-collecting, of course.

[He's awfully thoughtful for a gluttonous sinbeast, isn't he?]