[There won't be any chatter this night, unfortunately. He stopped being so energetically enthused about even the things he likes- liked?- a long time ago. There's just the soft scratching of pen on paper every now and then, and the quiet noises that are made when Saix adjusts his telescope. Just like Isa, he'll probably try to stay up until the sun's rays finally start to tint the very horizon a lighter color than the deep blues and purples of the nighty sky.]
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