It's been some time, and Beleth has been busy, but she still thinks often of her former clanmates. And with Cyril--well, she understood how he felt, to some extent. He was closer to Merrick, had been closer to Taas, but she still felt the losses. Particularly for Merrick, who (much like he did for Cyril) occupied a place in her life that could not simply be replaced. As always, at least Cyril and she had that much in common.

These thoughts float to her head when she sees Cyril's little stall in the Gallows, and him behind it. Keeping busy is an understandable desire, something that Beleth has certainly been using her new position to do. And there's always plenty to do. Even so, she wanders over to the stall, looking over the crafts, some familiar to her eye.

"You've always been so skilled at this," She murmurs, fingers running (carefully) over a trap. "But you've gotten even better." It's a polite, neutral compliment. Testing the ground to see where they stand, before she takes any steps.