Liir couldn't understand it properly because he doesn't speak French. He sees that history from the perspective of a strand of hair, a skin flake, anything organic but dead.

But this has also made him tolerant, at least. He shakes his head. He's wanted to do this with Gilbert for a while and he's not gonna let any uncomfortable, awkward trips to memory theater stop him. His hands come up to Gilbert's shoulders, as if their presence there will keep him from running away if he wants, a foolish idea.