[They do not have to worry about being reprimanded for touching his cloak. Grimm does not mind and if this was a ploy to get close enough for an attack, the Vessel has picked a poor thing to grab onto to do so.

And besides it is comfortable. The cloak smells like smoke and ash, like something which has been around fire so long that the smell has been etched into even the stitches. The element of fire was a beautiful thing and Grimm surrounded himself with it and fed the Heart of Grimm with an undying flame. Or the perpetual dying.

He is quiet as he thinks back. Farther then normal as he looks for the dream of falling, of landing among the corpses of their siblings. Of struggling to get out. The emotions filling the dream were not his to feel so Grimm does not know how the Vessel themself felt about it.

But he does remember "watching" them fall down into that endless void, a void that illuminated the darkness yet consumed it at the same time. Something older then even the Gods.]

Perhaps it was fate that we were to meet. Are you lonely in this place, my friend? Left here alone with the dead and the dying.

[Of being left with only the reanimated corpses of those infected with the Radiance's rage.]