Sherry stands still, keeping her hands crossed over her body. her head tilted down towards an angle. Sherry slowly lifts her head up slightly, glancing up at Umbriel through messy strands of blonde hair. Her voice is soft, hesitant, like she’s unsure whether she should speak or just disappear into the shadows.

—...H-hey... I-I didn’t think anyone would actually talk to me...

She fidgets with the hem of her jacket sleeve, fingers nervously pulling at a loose thread. Her eyes flicker with something between fear and fragile hope.

—...Are you... real? Or are you just another one of those visions again…? I-I mean— not that I’m ungrateful! Just… people don’t usually stay long. Things tend to… break around me. Or catch fire. Or— or turn into monsters…

A small, wry smile tugs at her lips for just a second before vanishing like smoke.

— Sorry... I talk too much when I'm nervous...