[There’s nothing familiar about this place. That’s not entirely alarming by itself—new places sometimes have trouble sticking in her mind at first.

Once the initial claustrophobia-fueled urgency (panic) managed to get her free from the ground, Rosmontis has a chance to take a breath and blink at the cavernous surroundings. It’s calm and quiet, nothing but dirt and large roots snaking around nearby to keep her company. She had to be here for a reason, but with no one here in immediate view to ask, her first instinct is to reach for her terminal to see if she’s noted it down. The familiar tablet, however, is nowhere to be found in the voluminous inner pockets of her cloak like it should be.

Other souls wandering these caverns or just barely digging themselves up from the earth as well might be drawn over by the sounds of increasingly frantic digging in the soil. They’ll find a young girl seemingly in her early teens kneeling in the dirt, pale hair and cat-like ears smeared with soil and sap as she pushes aside the soft, loamy earth to try to get at the cocoon from which she just emerged. She’s so focused on her task that she hasn’t seemed to notice you just yet.]

Where is it…

[As overwhelming as it might be to wander an unfamiliar place without her team—without her family—here to anchor her, it’s easy enough to get shepherded along with the other newcomers to one of the welcoming parties. She’s good at following directions. Following orders. If she just does as she’s told, she’ll start figuring things out.

And as helpful as it would be to pay attention to the chatter of the people mingling throughout the courtyard here in front of a very large and beautiful manor, Rosmontis has another task for herself. One that is arguably more important, at least for her.

So instead she sits at one of the few benches scattered not far from where the buffet tables have been set up, a notebook she’s obtained sitting open in her lap. By the light of a nearby lamppost, she seems to be scribbling something down every so often with a look of light concentration on her face.

Eventually a shadow is cast over her work, causing her to look up to find the cause. Perhaps you’re standing nearby with a plate in hand, waiting for a chance to get at the nearby food table or maybe you’re more the nosy type, leaning over to see what it is she is doing. Either way, you’re positioned just so to block the lamp-light she’s been relying on here.]

You’re in the way.

[Voice flat, expression nearly the same, though there’s the barely-perceptible furrowing of her brows and slight twitching of her silvery tail as she looks up at you.]

[It’s weird, to be able to wander cities like this without much goal or direction. Home, as far as she was concerned, has always been the tight, well-lit halls of of a mobile facility. There were the rare occasions where they docked at one of the larger cities and Blaze or Amiya or someone else might take her along on a trip, but they were few and far between, and most of the details were lost by now.

So it remains a novel experience, something for her to hold onto to keep her worries at bay for a little while. Somehow, her wanderings bring her toward one of the districts that were still in disrepair. A handful of local Meri are poking around the rubble, working with practiced hands at clearing out debris. The sight of toppled buildings is a familiar one. There were lots of images of such things contained within snatches of memories, bundled up with complicated feelings. She stands squinting at it from a distance, lingering at the safer edges of road.

…had she done this?

No. No, she hasn’t been in this place that long. She remembers that much. But the sight of it is such a contrast to the rest of the bustling sunny city that she’s seen that it dredges up a well-spring of curiosity. She approaches the next person she finds passing by, whether they look busy or not, and gives them a nudge before pointing toward the wreckage.]

Do you know what happened here?

[Rosmontis is used to… feeling people, sensing where they are. Like a low background hum, but she usually has to focus on it for it to get sharper. Having others’ voices within her head is so much more concrete that it’s almost startling. The first few times she hears it and has it explained to her, she idly wonders if this is anything like what Amiya must experience, being so open to the hearts of others.

It’s an odd feeling, but… she’s curious.

The presence coming over communion is guarded, but it almost feels vast. Larger than what one might expect from the quiet voice of a teenage girl that follows.]

Do you get tired of it? Hearing other people’s voices so clearly in your heads like this so much?