[how does one even console a weeping man? a man much, much larger than oneself, no less. and he does think it was a rather extreme response for a story... especially one that is better thought about rather than wept over.

still, nehan digs into his pockets with his right arm, balancing his weight on his two feet for a few seconds-- they can handle this much, he's tested it before, and soon enough he has a simple, but clean and plain white handkerchief in hand, and holds it out to the man.]

Come now, dry your tears. Breathe deep.

I understand the small play was tragic, but... hmmn. [a bit much, isn't it? though with his new, human ears, nehan can miss some things, such as not understanding the words over his sobbing. oh, he misses his erune ears.] There, there. Shall I tell you a story to distract you?

[he never offers such a thing, especially to a stranger.]