[A breath, to steady himself, to settle his thoughts. It's an effort, but he needs to keep a hold of himself, for Allura's sake, and for his own. He may not always be the most level-headed, but he will try. He closes his fingers around his daughter's, holding securely. Older than he remembers her or not, it's still Allura, and there's reassurance in that. Whatever she has lived through, whatever has happened, she is here and alive. Grown, a remarkable young woman, a paladin of Voltron.

But something in his heart shatters at war. What has he left his daughter to? There's a flicker of a smile at his old friend's name. At least Coran is there with her, millennia in the future.]

A war. [He echoes softly.] Then there are darker days ahead than the ones I am currently living. I'm sorry to know they fall to you.

[And also for the record, he likes nothing about the sound of a Trial of the trusting or otherwise.] What does that mean?