Aerith has always felt close to Vincent in some ways, from the moment she met him. And of course that might have seemed crazy because he was this guy sleeping in a coffin in Nibelheim mansion, but she's good at reading people. It doesn't mean she understands everything about them, of course, but it's like she can see when they have been through a lot. Like she sees a bit of her own trauma in their eyes sometimes. And now she's glad to have this friend group. She has never belonged in a group of people before, but she's glad it has changed.

She can't help but let a chuckle escape her mouth at Vincent's words. "Awww, don't say that!" She playfully pats his shoulder. "But I'd say you're maybe more like an older brother in our group. At least for me!"

“…an older brother.” Vincent repeated quietly; his tone still holding it’s thoughtful if not unfamiliar edge. To be regarded as family was…different; a context he had no experience with. Found family - patchwork families - he’d heard plenty of terms over the years he had lived and he had never given them much thought until he found himself travelling with this particular band of folk, on a united mission.

“…much older brother, it would seem.” But, for all of his outwardly quiet and detached nature, he was quite flattered and he admission did bring a little warmth to his chest; a fragment of life where there had been none for so very long. “–but one, nonetheless.” A dry acceptance of the newfound dynamic.

“I may need coaching. It has been some time.”

"That's a relief." There's sadness on Aerith's features at these words, though. She remembers only too well how Ifalna had a slow death because of Hojo. And she did everything to protect her. Even now, it's thanks to Ifalna that she's still alive. Even in the Lifestream, her mother has kept protecting her.

There's sadness on her features as she listens to Vincent's words. "I'm sorry for all that happened. It must have been hard..." Especially while not being around when it happened. Aerith was at least at Ifalna's side when she died. She was young, though. She couldn't really understand.

She offers him a sad smile. "Yeah, I get what you mean... The people we met, the ones who matter the most... They end up becoming our family." That's how she feels about her friends. She feels so grateful to have met Elmyra the day she lost Ifalna. She deeply loves both of her moms. They're different, but they both mean the world to her.

There comes a profound loneliness with the entire loss of ones family - the two of them understood that, though had been at very different stages in their lives when it had happened and under wildly different circumstances. The pain may not have been exactly the same, and Vincent certainly had longer to accept that weight in his chest - but there bore an understanding there.

As for found family; it was different. Nobody could replace the close confines of blood, but the fact that each member chose to be there, to defend, to protect, to keep company… It meant much. In the face of the atrocities that lay ahead, Vincent was certain those newly formed bonds would be tested, but they would have to hold firm if they were to succeed.

“…I do hope I am not a father figure in that patched family. I’d make an awful one.” It was a dry attempt at a joke.

"I think your mom was right about that." Aerith lets a soft chuckle escape her mouth. Of course the fact that Ifalna was a Cetra has contributed to shape Aerith that way. Early in her life, she learned that a connection with the Planet itself was important, so Aerith has always taken care of it. Flowers, plants, animals... they're all precious and important.

There's sadness on Aerith's features as she listens to Vincent. It's rare that he opens himself, though, and she's glad he feels comfortable enough with her to actually be willing to share this much. "I'm sorry about your mother... about your parents." She offers him a sad, comforting smile. "Music and flowers are great. I think... I think my mom would have enjoyed music, too, if we weren't trapped into this lab. Maybe they would have gotten along."

“…It was a mercy it was quick.” Vincent hadn’t been old enough at the time to understand what was happening to his mother, not fully - but he had looked into it since, re-read old medical records once he was old enough and had exposed himself to the truth.

“My father, however… made his choice. I had been on duty that day, as a Turk; heard of what had happened from my superior that afternoon.” And had kept working, too; because compassionate leave wasn’t on the cards for someone leashed to ShinRa in such a way. He hadn’t minded, at the time- he hadn’t been close with Grimoire, but the void of not having any parents left to support him had grown greater as time had gone onward.

“I’ve found that the family one picks up through the throes of life ends up meaning more than the memories of those I’ve lost, anyway.” A patchwork of people of whom had meant more, done more- stood there for longer when nobody else had; those people, spoken of or otherwise, meant much to he of whom often didn’t say anything at all.

Aerith's eyes remain on the shroom as she listening to Vincent's words. The truth is that there's sadness on her face right now, as much as she wants to hide it. It makes her think of her own mother, of Ifalna, who was even more connected to the Planet than Aerith herself was. The same mother who just saved her from a certain death...

"My mom also loved everything botanical. My other mom is more passionate about flowers than the rest, but both of them... They seem to have stuff in common." She lets a soft chuckle escape her mouth, trying to light up her own mood. She clears her throat and looks at Vincent again. "How... How were they like ? Your parents."

Vincent listens in his own state of silence for a moment. He wasn’t a particularly spiritual man, but he wonders if something had lead the woman that had raised Aerith to her - perhaps her mother. Similar spirits, similar hearts.

“My mother would have argued that a love for nature was the sign of a good person.” He takes pause, just long enough to contemplate the question posed with no small amount of conflict written upon his expression.

“My mother was gentle, had a large love for music and flowers. She was a pianist, a dancer… her eyes kind.” He begins to walk once more as he contemplated further; “My father was strict, married to his work. Put science largely above the needs of his family. He made great discoveries, pushed his field beyond what they thought possible. But it cost him his life in the end - - but by that point, my mother had already passed after a short illness. Even then, he was not by her side. She … was an angel and he didn’t deserve her.”

This place is strange. Aerith thinks is pretty, though, no matter how unusual it may seem. She remembers the stories Ifalna used to tell her back when she was still a child. The young Cetra has always known the world had a lot to offer, but she has spent so much time in Midgar... She never knew she could see it for herself one day. Maybe that's why she needs to survive this much. There's still so much to discover about the world and about life itself...

She raises a curious eyebrow at Vincent's words. Now she's showing that she knows nothing about the world. Maybe she spent too much time in the slums. "Oh, really ? How do you know ?" she asks before she stops toward the path to the lifespring so she could stop and observe a mushroom properly.

“…my mother loved everything botanical..” He admitted quietly; the majority of his knowledge regarding such coming from either Aerith or his mother; memories playing with the present. “…our home had once looked like one of those large, botanical gardens. My father wasn’t too fond–” But he had loved it; so much beauty and greenery, scents… as a child, it had made him feel safe, happy.

He takes pause, too, leans idly against a rock wall to observe Aerith with arms crossed; they’d time to spare for the moment, and he didn’t doubt there was all kinds of wonder to be found in that system. Places such as that… they always had surprises to be found.

The moment between them was a string, pulled taunt near to the point of snapping. To much pressure, too much pull, and the connection between them would break in two. An instant of understanding, a single word to bring them closer, and instead it might have turned into something stronger. A bridge of connection instead of a noose made to hang one - or both of them.

In just one simple sentence, the string snapped. Not neatly; thin strands still held on stubbornly, refusing to allow for a clean cut that would remove the overwhelming and suffocating sensation of betrayal that the words left. But the core of their connection was gone from nothing more than one

simple sentence.

I'm not willing to share at the moment.

With everything that Vincent was asking of him, the faith and trust he felt that Cloud could put in his companions, to hear that there was a piece of him that he simply was not willing to share-- it made it feel hollow and empty. Little more than a lie meant to offer hope when none existed.

He wanted to find something pithy and cutting to say to underscore the moment, but Cloud had never been good at coming up with spur-of-the-moment comments. Perhaps it was better that he said nothing, leaving his response as little more than a long, empty stare.

The airship would stop before long, and when it did he would leave. Tifa would try to stop him if she was aware of what he was planning. Barrett would curse him... and it didn't matter. If the world was going to be saved, then he was not going to be part of it.

The one who helped to lead Aerith to her death did not deserve to save a world that he had condemned.

Adding to the viciousness of the situation wouldn’t help it, whether information regarding Vincent’s own endeavours were wanted or otherwise. He felt, in that moment, that it would be best for him to not say aught further and thus he simply returns to the group and continues with their intentions. The arrival of the airship, their movement at the decisions of the rest of the team - - it all moved with the heavy weight of grief and loss looming over them like a terrible smog; not only for Aerith, but now for Cloud, too, once they’d landed.

For a while, the rest of them remained at the airstrip and allowed themselves a moment to stew on everything that had happened before they began their slow walk through the wilderness that would eventually lead them to their next destination. Emotions were flared, talking was non-existent and Vincent wondered if the team would survive as a group and manage to face the dark forces pressing down upon them.

Alas, they’d very little time to contemplate it any further. The size and viciousness of the beast that came bounding out of the undergrowth gave none of them time enough to react well, and though Vincent moves out of the way at the very last second, other members of their party were not so lucky.

Bullets flew, trigger pulled, person manoeuvring - - but the damned thing was fast for its size, and standard bullets ricocheted off spines. He’d no time to aim for more sensitive and less armoured parts given that he had to keep moving - - and the beast in question was not one he recognised, either.

“…damn it.”