Better, then, that Celehar didn’t ask - Sunny wouldn’t be talkative about which of the voices was his toll for a while now. Or… maybe never, not fully willing to talk, but he would be hard-pressed about it.

The elf’s words gave him pause; he stopped half-way through coloring the cat on the page. Did he… regret it? If given any choice in the world, Sunny would have simply wanted to just stay in that room back in the city. To what purpose, aside from his own false sense of safety? But… the Ferryman had said that he could only move forward.

Sunny hated change, but still he continued to move. If that fact wasn’t true, even during those four years he had isolated himself in his room, then he could have taken another way out. Instead… he kept living.

Finally, Sunny shook his head gently. “No…” No, he didn’t regret Crossing. They had to - there was no other option. “It was scary… but Ferryman kept their promise.”

A full sentence, something he could surprisingly get out without a cough, dry as his throat was. They didn’t need water here, but the trek had left him parched anyway. He was still hesitant to drink from the inklings of the River, though.