Valda's sense of optimism washed over Konrad like a soothing wave, and he knew if she could feel hope after everything, then he could too. Konrad followed her by sitting up and got more comfortable as their shoulders brushed and Valda laid her head down on his. It was dark in their room, but with her beside him, he wasn't afraid of it anymore. Konrad listened to the story she told him about the garden, imagining the little redhead in the summer sun, the vegetables and the flowers, and the butterflies flittering by. It was a beautiful scene, enough to calm his nerves and let some peace sink in. Konrad's breathing grew slower, his heart returning to an average rate, and he leaned his head against the wall behind them, willing his eyes to close. They felt heavy, but he wouldn't sleep, not while she was sharing.
The sunflowers in her room made him smile, even behind his sleepy closed eyes, and Konrad nudged her a little when she admitted that was the first time she'd told the story. They had shared so much, things people should never have to go through, and the memories that were left behind. Konrad had shared more with Valda than anyone else in the world besides maybe his brother, but there were things Valda knew that even Anders did not. It was a strong connection, quite the friendship, and he sincerely appreciated it.
At Valda's question, Konrad smiled again before sighing quietly and opening his eyes to peer over at her. "My mother," How could he possibly explain everything there was about Freja? How could he sum up a brilliant witch and compassionate mother in a few sentences? It seemed like an impossible task, and it made his heart feel heavy again. Konrad let out another soft sigh, closing his eyes as his head rested against the wall behind them. "I think our mothers would have gotten along," He offered, that dimpled smile growing again on his face. "She loved her family; there wasn't a thing in this world she wouldn't do for us. She was brave and smart and had the best jokes. Half the conversations she had with my father were jokes, old jokes they had been sharing for decades, like their own secret language." Konrad had hoped to one day decipher it.
"Stubborn too, though, Anders got it from her," Konrad let out a laugh that could fill the room, remembering several instances all at once as his tired mind grew chaotic in the night. "Once the dogs are old enough, they sleep in their barn, and it's warded and has some heating charms, but they must get used to the cold, so it doesn't bother them when we're on a run. If they stay in the warm house all winter, their winter coats won't fully grow in, but my mom didn't want them to be cold out there. I remember one year she slept out in the barn with them for a week straight to make sure they were alright." Konrad, it seems, had inherited quite a lot from Freja as well. Including her love for the team and undying compassion for others.