The remembrances. The spirit of it was familiar despite the different language. Like a service of a more somber note. It's not always a happy thing when there's a lot of ghosts to talk to, not if they were all recent. He watches the flickering lights for a while, casting a shadow in a long, gargoyle-like shape against the wall with his lowered posture.

In another time, he might have been inclined to offer more comfort for the kid. But loss and the deepened well of anger had infected that side of him with a sharp frostbite. Still, after a few minutes to absorb the moment, he manages a small squeeze to Boba's shoulder for his attention.

"Do you still want to get more things for them?" he asks, keeping his voice gentle.

Boba mentioned the red and gold, but it was a personal thing, ultimately. Miguel would let him lead on whether or not he'd like to go ahead. He could manage that much for a kid who lost way more than he should have.