[ She bristles a little when he says that—foolish girl—but with the small smile on his face and the way he stands close to drape the cloak over her shoulders... she finds that she can't really hang onto her ire for very long.

Still, she shoots him a petulant look. ]

How was I to predict this turn of events? [ She left it at the coat check, god!!!

Anyway, his cloak is long enough on her that the ends drag on the ground, so she gathers up the sides and wraps it around her, drawing in its warmth. The fabric is still warm with his body heat, and she can't help but notice that it smells... nice. Like cologne and the faint scent of wood-smoke and ash, reminding her of so many nights spent gathered near a campfire as the Deliverance fought their way to the very top of the world. ]

Oh, no... rather, we had finally achieved peace—no sooner than The Storm swept it all away. [ Her voice grows softer—maybe even a little melancholy. In her darkest moments, she has to wonder if everything they fought for was worth their sacrifices, if this was what became of it. Was it all just... futile? ] Though the sentiment is the same. I cannot say that I delight in seeing this world go the way of mine.