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Ophelia gazed deeply into Rishima's eyes as she replied, understanding the meaning behind her words. Tragedy. Heartbreak. Pain. Fear. Dotted with moments where the sun decided to shine and bring increments of joy that seemed to make it all worth it. Phi knew the pain of having one's home destroyed. Everything she knew and many whom she loved still lay, unburied in Isilme. Just like herself, Rishima was a wanderer, hooves never finding purchase and still in love with a land that was broken and dead.
"I understand," she said quietly. "My home was destroyed by wicked shadows of the fallen. Many passed into darkness with them. Most died. We had to flee, and their bodies still lay there, unburied, uncared for." Her tone was almost a whisper, sorrow tinted by a necessary numbness. "Even though I cannot go back, and even though the memories from that place are horrible, I cannot help but feel it in my bones. I knew every inch of that land."
Nothing stirred in the forest but her own memories, and she turned back to Rishima, countenance undisturbed. The silence that lingered between the words was a comfortable one, and Phi was a patient creature, content to simply observe, learn. Once again, her words resonate true in Ophelia's own soul, and she smiles softly. Absently she wondered if when she was as old as Rishima if she would feel this way. Part of her figured it would be true, the rest prayed that it wouldn't be. "I have found that meditation, studying and exploration have made my heart grow quite fond of this place," she offered kindly. And the Sun God...
"I meditate on the things that I would never tell others, secrets of my soul. But I have come to terms with most of them now, like my memory."
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