[He thinks on that a moment, a sigh making a quiet escape as he does.]

Bullying him into working on his poetry? Mmm...no...cooking with him. And trying to figure out baking with him. We weren't much good at it, but we had fun. Often bullied Jon into trying whatever we made, good or ill. I'd dance with him while we were waiting for the stove to do its work.

I'll miss the feeling of home. I know he wasn't soft or kindly inherent, but he was for me.