It was raining again. It seemed to rain a lot lately, at least more so right now. Perhaps it was pathetic fallacy, or simply an irritating coincidence. Whatever it was, Ezio certainly disapproved. Rain made his clothing stick to his skin, pulling his limbs down. How much extra weight did it add, anyway? And why did the sky always insist on dropping rain when he was least prepared for it? Gloom. Too much gloom and angst and depressing assumptions ran through his head. He couldn't remember if he was thinking this way previously, but it was all too obvious now that it was raining. This weather simply brought gloomy feelings with it. As he trudged through mud that squished beneath his boots, he couldn't help the involuntary glance to his left, to Federico, checking to see if he was keeping up. His brother was not in a fit state of mind, and it would only be a matter of time until he disappeared on an outing. The normally warm eyes that characterized his brother's face had become empty and hollow; a disconcerting sight, to be sure, but one that was too be expected.
They slowed down and gave hopeful stares to the exit of the city, but nobody appeared. Not a single soul was traveling in or out. Ezio had to pull on Federico's shirt to get him to follow (which was not an all-too-easy task, considering that wetness that soaked into his garments), had to watch as he tried to see it one last time before it was out of his sight. He assured him it would not be long, but it was getting hard to let such thick lies fall.
It was desperate and futile to think he could predict when their father would return. A banker did not deliver a document only to be away for several weeks—it was not that dangerous of a job, which only made it harder to suck in the truth that he had not returned from his errand yet. Was he aware of the distress he was putting upon his family? Did he care?
"Ezio," came Federico's voice now, "I want to be home." His voice scratched in a way that hinted more towards influenza then an actual notion of sadness, but his raw, tight way of speaking made it clear that he was becoming worried. Ezio clasped his brother's shoulder, holding it tightly and hoping for his intended comfort to transfer through the touch. He did not look at him, and instead continued staring at the ground, following the path back to their family. Or, at least, the ones who were not lost.
"I know." He licked his lips and let his brow knit, but did not allow his emotions to take further control of his expression. "You are not the only one."