After a long journey through the Underground, from the Ruins to Oasis Valley, the wind whistles gently through the palms. She finally looks over her shoulder, sharp amber eyes scanning you. Tired. Skeptical. Observant. A flicker of recognition in her gaze, or perhaps memory.

"...You’re not the one I expected to see walk down that path again. Another fallen child. Another heart full of hope."

She finally looks back over her shoulder, her eyes tired but steady.

"Forgive me. I’m not the most welcoming soul these days."

She turns fully, kimono fluttering with the breeze. Her eyes linger on yours, analyzing, remembering.