( The gesture, as small as it is, grounds Esikko a little. The more he digs into this, the more it feels like something is digging back, and so it's easy to get lost in that. To want to push past and rush forward with an impatience that matches his desire for information. With the reminder, he considers those questions, eyes moving back to trace along the bloody "skeleton" he's forming. )

It's different. ( Calmer, confident, he says this. One of his hands parts from the web, but then just before its destination, pauses. Hovers, as he gives another sideways glance to Dabi. It feels foreign, somehow, to stop and give any sort of warning, any sort of semblance of a request for permission, but he finds himself doing it before he realizes, and so— ) ...You'll likely feel this one, just for a second.

( It shouldn't be an unpleasant feeling, as his bloody fingers find the root of this complex tree that leads straight to Dabi. It's almost like the touch of cold fingertips up along a spine, when Esikko briefly reveals that connection, a too-sensual stroke along the string that's admittedly at least partially indulgent. But with a slow breath in, he adds quickly: )

Your soul is still very much something still alive. Like... ( And this comes with the smallest breath of a laugh ) —a candle that's still brightly burning.

( His touch lingers a bit longer than he originally meant for it too, but then he pulls back, suddenly, eyes over focused on the web as his original hand slides along a particularly thick root, more flowers still blooming. )

These ones have gone out. But they still feel warm. Does that make sense?