Hans lingers around the recently-resurrected Lakas, worried for the younger cat. Just moments ago, they had helped haul his lifeless body into the city and into the guild hall. Yet, here they are again, breathing and alive, because of a weird feather. *“I told you I would rise again.”* They only grunt in response, slightly annoyed that the Acolyte wasn’t super clear that “rising again” meant that they weren’t actually permanently dead—the group was mourning and miserable the entire trek to Reverie. Hans supposes they can’t really hold it against him, though. Last words aren’t easy. A slight flutter of air ruffles the fur on their cheek. Their little spell book had flown out of their pocket and opened to a new page. *Bloom*, it read, though the letters and strokes upon the page were unfamiliar. Something about spirits and luck and blessings… Lakas could probably use the help as he recovers, right? “Rise again, with better fortune this time,” Hans signs, their movements a whisper, then places a paw upon the paper. They feel an energy surge through them as they cast the spell. They can’t see anything physically, but the image of a butterfly appears vividly in their mind. Lakas turns towards Hans, feeling the shift in energy. He smiles and weakly signs a “thank you” back. Hans softly laughs in return—it’s the least they can do, it’s not that impressive—and pats the Acolyte’s paw before following the others to the temple.