[she doesn't know that the world is turning just for her]

skill: [none]

Mythris was a strange and challenging land. Euphemia had puzzled long and hard about the how’s and the why’s of how folks were ripped from their lives (and only sometimes were restored). She thought about her own experience with it, and how strange it was that her previous life, and then the one that replaced it, and then the rebirth into this one all seemed so irrelevant and separate from one another. There was no overlap. There was only fracturing and pain at whatever had occurred in her untimely absence, a grief that never seemed to remedy itself.

So which was the more painful, to have died – or to have been resurrected?

With this thought on her mind, Euphemia easily found it within herself to swallow the eternal frustration that her abandonment issues had left her with, and she beamed towards Vidarr, despite him detailing the traumas that had befallen him. He clearly hadn’t died, and he hadn’t left per se, but he at least had been dead to them – and she did not have this feeling in a negative manner. It was simply the fact of this reality, that when people were here, they were here. When they weren’t…

Well, did it matter where else they were?

Finally, the truth of Vidarr’s journey settled into her psyche, her eyes widened with concern. You got burned? she questioned, an astounded tone on her tongue. She had caught wind of more strange happenings these past months, astral occurrences and caves made of nightmares and such, and assumed Vidarr had been made victim of similar circumstances. The maiden glanced at him, lips pressed into a thin line, now feeling proud that he had made it back in the face of such dire circumstances. Yes, somehow, she had made an emotional 180 in how she regarded his ‘time away.’

Her eyes looked at his face, which seemed to be mostly the same as it always was, but when his body language directed her attention to his dorsal area, her eyes widened once more. Gosh, you look like Da! Euphemia gasped, stepping forward, amazed at seeing flesh so raw and new. Euphemia suddenly didn’t want to press the man for more information, she truly just wished to usher him across the borders and give him back his den to rest in and feed him updates on the sisters and those who existed around them, but two questions of her own could not contain themselves.

But, where did you recover? and... I assumed someone healed you? she tried to ask delicately.

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