[Dezel puts up with it, surprisingly. At this point he's used to Zaveid draping on him, which Sorey doesn't really do. He knows Sorey likes his little physical reminders and, after a thousand years of slumber, Dezel isn't going to deny him. Sometimes he returns it but only when other people aren't looking, like a hand on Sorey's back to help direct him through a crowd, or on his shoulder in an alleyway. He's still the dark, silent sentinel that Sorey remembers.

The sudden stop has him puzzled, though. And then it hits. The way Sorey looks at him, the near-threadbare cloak that has seen more than its share of calamity...]

... You don't-- you don't have to change. [He isn't sure how much the cloak means to him, exactly, but he'd learned at some point it was gifted to Sorey from Alisha.] It's not like you smell terrible.

[... Yeah. That's what Sorey is worried about, sure.]

But I have money if you want something different. People might start recognizing you and asking questions.