Luka's propped himself up on one elbow, sighing contentedly and idly running his fingers over Gyre's body. He's relaxed, eyes heavy and half-lidded as the exhaustion of a long day finally catches up on him. Though he knows its inevitable, the thought of Gyre leaving is far from his mind.

"You have a lot of scars." He says, finally. It would be immediately apparent to a sighted person, but Luka only now picks up on just how many there as he has he has this moment to reflect. "Are they from hunting?"