Jean-Claude caresses his friend's face for a moment longer, before letting his hands fall to Joscelin's shoulders. Sacrificing himself for a friend. And waking up to find himself reborn. It's really quite poetic, if he allows himself to consider the fact.

Speaking of poetic. He flicks the former vampire a soft smile, tilting his head to the side as he replies.

"So you say, mon ami," he says, but there are those who would argue otherwise. Vampires may be dead, and their morals might be somewhat lacking, but such things have nothing to do with their lack of a soul. Corruption, perhaps. A vampire is just another form of undead, after all. A better version, if you ask Jean-Claude.

He squeezes the boy's shoulder, his expression gentling. Perhaps this is a rather public area to be having such a conversation, but then again, their words are very vague, for anyone who might be listening in. And these are important things that must be said.

"I am happy for you," he says, softly. Understanding that this is ultimately what Joscelin would have wanted. He had never asked to become a child vampire. And now he has been given his life back to him. A curse, he had said, and yes. He supposes a curse is how it must have been, for him.