[ Ah, and there it is. That nagging thought he'd been trying not to think about. "Where's Rebekah?" She promised. She swore to him as he died.

... then she tried to keep him dead.

His face falls, and he looks away from her, down to the bottom of his second birthplace. If nothing else, the Original family had always been careful about keeping their word. Perhaps he should have expected this, after the first time she'd mourned him, but... he hadn't.

Now he's torn. There's the bonds of blood that call to him, the only people he has known all his life, the ones whose attention, whose approval, whose love he had yearned for for so long. Then there's Davina, who loves him all without him having to hound her for centuries to pay him any mind. Then there's the Ancestors' whispers echoing through his skull.

He can't make this choice right now.

Kol has to clear his throat before he speaks, before he can make himself meet Davina's eyes again. She is well and truly furious, he can see that much. ]

That's all well and good, but... I only just came back to life, I'm still sitting in a tomb in a ritual bed, and if I had some clothes that might make your life a little easier.

[ Slow down a bit? Please? Maybe? ]