She is not Nakki. He is reminded of it and yet, at times, he must remind himself. Though her face stares out from Grimoire's, a fact he cannot help but note with a tilt of his head - endlessly fascinated - he knows she is not her. No, Grimoire is Grimoire. For a moment, he did not know how to feel. Yet, eventually, he knew. Some part of him had grown in fondness of her. He had uprooted his life for her though he had never admitted it. He had stood watch over the graves of Asteraia in order to keep her curiosity at bay, to keep her safe from the wrath of the mourning. He was not sure, then, if he might have done that for Nakki. Time was ruthless. It did not give him the opportunity to know.
He shifted slightly when she spoke - not when she dropped the meat or even moved for him - but only when she spoke. His ears quivered momentarily and his eyes finally seemed to focus entirely on the pearlescence of hers. Her? His head tilted again, opposite now, and he breathed an uncertain hm beneath the silence. "Will you...stay?" The words seemed heavy, as if they cleared a path in the wind. "Not like...her." He dared not speak her name. Now, he saw Grimoire. He did not wish to see Nakki.
And her question. He knew it might come. He shifted again, turned away for a moment as his brows furrowed. "Not sure." Half-truth, maybe. His mother laughed. His father stayed silent - he would have lied too. They all would have and it made Wraith's stomach twist with uncertainty. "Ghosts everywhere." He turned to her again and lowered to the meat with a curious sniff. Food had been hard to come by - at least, for him. He had never been the greatest of hunters (simply put, he had never been made for it) and his stomach growled at the prospect.
His eyes rose to hers and then, lowered to the meat once more. "Eat." He beckoned her, his muzzle having pushed the leg gently towards her. "Speak...with me." He waited a moment, as if to be sure she would not simply become snow or the wind, and then he took the flesh into him. It had been...years, maybe, since he had eaten with another. Somehow, it comforted him and yet, it made him all the more afraid of himself.