What’s context
The first year is painful: you are freshly dead and very hungry. You retreat to your rooms and corridors. You sleep a lot and you remember the taste of tyrian blood, the thrill of draining a body dry, you dwell on how hard it was to pull away from Terezi’s throat, from Sollux’s. The humans smell wrong and taste worse, for all that Rose is a delight, for all that Dave is sweet, for all that Terezi is charming. You miss Sollux and Feferi and Vriska and Tavros and Nepeta. You even miss Equius. You even, shamefully, furtively, in an aching and awful and roundabout fashion, miss Eridan. They are gone though, lost and left behind, and their drifting ghosts get smaller and stranger every time you see them.