Shadowwyn Moor moulin rouge

Eshe would have typically snorted, but not today. None of her sarcasm or excitement could be found, if only because she could hardly believe what the hell was happening. It was too good to be true. Most of the time when that thought occurred to her, she woke up. Or things came to an untimely end, as with her life in the Canyon. But she couldn't even think of a witty response to banter with her sister. She was too happy that she was present.

It didn't matter how or why, just that it was. The nitty gritty details she could really care less about in this circumstance. "I can't say I'm too surprised. Pops always did say you were the smelly one. Bet they didn't come in half-a-mile radius of you." Now she snorted, but she was back to the earth pretty quickly. "Anyone else follow you? Or, that you found?" The two of them had always been the closest, but they were also devoted to the entirety of their family. If there was a number to count and Bhreac knew one survived—unlike Quill, who had no idea—then she could only hope and believe that Bhreac did some measure of extra investigating.