They heard him coming, but do not look (down, still well above his height even knelt as they are) until he speaks.

They don't understand. They're not bothered, they're nothing. It's nothing.

It should be nothing.

The Hollow Knight is in the past, of the past, a tattered piece of old Hallownest tangled in something from before Hallownest until they were forcibly ripped out by the hands of Siblings.

Perhaps they should be buried somewhere, set to rest as their Sister would not allow. It is not, as ever, meant to be their choice.

...A claw's punched through the cloth.

They hold it back to him.