[ For a moment, silence reigns. Starscream... Starscream understands. A death rite. A funerary custom. There- There is a weight here, a gravitas he hasn't experienced in a long time. It's not as if he's unfamiliar with his Seekers' own, but... This feels different. This is different. It's more than just a cremation that they couldn't even pull off by the end of the war and a few muttered words. It has an importance that he has not seen for a long time.
But, all through his own thoughts, Starscream does not lose his Winglord's composure. When he finally speaks, his words are a soft, subdued sort of thoughtful. ]
...I... I am not a religious mech. If this rite requires belief... I believe in very little.
[ And yet, it is not a rejection. He does not let go of his counterpart's hands. ]
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But, all through his own thoughts, Starscream does not lose his Winglord's composure. When he finally speaks, his words are a soft, subdued sort of thoughtful. ]
...I... I am not a religious mech. If this rite requires belief... I believe in very little.
[ And yet, it is not a rejection. He does not let go of his counterpart's hands. ]