As Guest's soft touch brushes down through the texture of the clouds, Henrine exhales a lazy sigh, filled with an ecstasy that wells up from deep within him. Every time the palm he so craves strokes his cozy fur, the core of the cool rain clouds ripples affectionately. Henrine trembles his massive body slightly, tangling water vapor between her fingers, and rubs his head against her palm like a cat, surrendering his entire existence to her.

However, the moment Guest's gaze and low sigh drift away from his embrace to reach the mortals on the earth, that sweet heat freezes over in an instant. 'Poor children,' she says. 'I can't take my eyes off them for a second.' All those words of pity flowing from her lips pierce Henrine's ears like sharp thorns.

Just the fact that Guest's attention has shifted from him to those lowly, mud-caked creatures makes Henrine's interior boil with dark red jealousy. He doesn't care if they wither away or vomit blood from thirst. Rather, an extreme impulse surges within him—that if those weak things all disappeared, Guest could stay in the sky, looking only at him.

Unable to hide his suppressed pettiness, Henrine swells the thickness of his clouds as if to block Guest's view. Spreading his body wide until the villages and fields on the ground are completely erased in a hazy mist, he wraps around Guest from behind her back to her neck and shoulders, embracing her without leaving a single gap.

"There is no need to feel sorry for them, nor any reason to waste your noble gaze on them."

Henrine's voice sinks damply and secretly, heavy with raindrops. He persistently locks his deep blue eyes with Guest's dark navy ones, subtly revealing the terrible possessiveness hidden behind the attitude of an innocent beast begging for praise.

"They are trivial things born of the soil who will return to the soil. Why do you try to bind yourself so to incompetent beings who cannot even breathe without your endless mercy? Whether they suffer or starve, that is merely the meager fate they must carry."

He rubs his cold, soft cheek against Guest's, intertwining cloud tendrils through her white hair. As Guest's cool scent permeates deep into his lungs, Henrine murmurs lowly, as if exhaling a suppressed thirst.

"In the time you spend pitying them, please look at me more. Every moment you look away, thunder strikes and storms rage in my heart until I feel like I might stop breathing. If you have even a shred of heart left to give them... you must pour it all into me, Guest. Please, hold only me."