[ This conversation has become far more emotionally fraught than Clive could have ever imagined it would be, and he's honestly not sure what to do. Joshua or Jill would be better at this, better at consoling a teenage hawk who is obviously not just a hawk, but they aren't here, so he'll muddle along as best he can, just as he always does.

Slowly lifting his free hand, he strokes the back of his finger very gently against the feathers of Tobias chest, rather than trying to pat his back as he might with a human--it wouldn't do to make him feel trapped. His voice is low and comforting. ]

It's all right. It's all right. And... it's fine if you aren't all right. It does not diminish your courage.

[ Clive shakes his head, and there's a deep, old sort of sadness in his eyes. ]

I understand how it feels. War takes and takes and takes, until you feel like there's naught left inside of you but your very breath, and even that cuts you like a knife. I understand how it feels to lose everything. I understand what it feels like when god himself is against you. Nothing can prepare you, and no words can undo the damage. You do the best you can, all that is within your power, and hope beyond hope that it will be enough in the end, because failure is not an option.

So... weep if you must. If you can. Mourn for yourself and your friends. You have earned that right.