In that light, Kravitz's temperament makes a lot more sense. It's no mless frustrating, but he can see the misunderstanding. Which is unusual for him, so he seizes onto it with enthusiasm.

"Oh! Hahaha. No. No, death is not the final bell... just one of many echoes before a greater, true finality of silence. A part of Creation that will end as Creation itself fails."

Foster is restless, though--he did not come to Ziziphus to talk.

"Do you understand? You already think about it a lot. I can tell that much." A pause, then:

"Good."

He smiles briefly. Almost... appreciatively, if thinly.

But he doesn't want to keep talking--he wants to keep seeing, to keep moving, racing the destruction of the island to its dizzying, cataclysmic end...! He just can't contain it, not right now. He can't be still. So, his hooves already stepping high, his claws pulling free of his hairline with blood at their blunt tips--!

He whirls, breaking into a fast trot before sprinting up the fissure, a gait that culminates in a hot canter as he races towards higher ground.