[Gently, he strokes Louis' lower back, listening in quiet contemplation. His own thoughts wander similar roads, at how all of it had been so rash and so thoughtless. She'd been so small then, and imagining her in an even younger form knots his stomach.

They'd been reckless, but Lestat had known better. He's not entirely sure which is worse, acting out of blind panic as Louis had, or knowing the consequences and doing it anyway. At least he'd heard of those damned Great Laws before then, had seen what could happen when someone too fragile was given the gift.]

For all our carelessness, she was stronger than we could have ever guessed. She did more with it than most vampires with twice her advantages.

[It doesn't absolve them, he knows that, but there is a sad sense of admiration for the vampiress they'd both known.]