I know exactly how you feel. There's a man named Amberdrake, back home. He's as close as blood to me, and a true brother to my heart [Skan says it in a voice wistful with memory. Oh, it'd been so long ago that they'd met. And how unlikely the chance of their friendship! For all the horror the mage-war wrought, it was not without some small good that could only have come about under that terrible pressure] I have nothing from home to remember him by. Every day I worry that I'll start to forget his face, or his voice. But nothing can erase the memory of kindness in the dark.

[Comfortingly, Skan spreads one wing over Viktor's bed, just as he'd have comforted another gryphon, as he'd comforted Keeth, Tan, and Zhaneel, many times over. Warm weight, shield against all who might see, or judge, or harm: he leaves it there, just so, like a second, somewhat dusty, blanket overtop the rest.]

You'll see him again, Viktor. I'm sure of it. Until then, we'll just have to keep better track of your things, hm?