"That's a pretty name."

Branch comes over next to where Miguel is sitting, kneeling next to him.

He doesn't clasp his hands in prayer. Different world, different cultures, different ideas of the afterlife, different beliefs. Instead he just rests them on his knees.

He does close his eyes and start whispering, speaking to her, the way someone would at a troll funeral or memorial services.

Most of the words aren't audible, but Miguel might catch the beginning "Gabriella, I'm sorry that you're gone -"

But the rest is under his breath, so Miguel can't hear. Branch tells her he's sorry that she's gone. That he wishes she could still be with her father. That it's not fair that she had so little time. That if she wants some company where she is, his grandma will watch out for her until she can be with her father again.

There are no tricks. There is nothing insincere. It is just something that happens in Miguel's world and many others, someone quietly paying their respects, with the tender sympathy they would for a child.

Eventually Branch opens his eyes and stops muttering under his breath, quiet. He looks sidelong at Miguel.

"I'm sorry for your loss," he says softly.