Cayde sighs. "Figured. But I knew they could get along without me."

He finally drinks some of his coffee, thinking about it. He wonders how many of his old caches have been pulled up between his now and Saint-14's now. How many letters from a dead guy people have gotten to read. What they thought about them.

But he also knows that the itch of curiosity can't change the fact they're not his to worry about, anymore. If there was anything left to say that wasn't said, it's all moot now.

Another thought.

"Hey Saint, you like birds, right?"

It just pops in out of nowhere.