Moonspear There is so much wrong going on outside

”Once, in the plains,” he answered, recalling their encounter briefly. She had seemed so haughty then compared to now and he suspected that the wilds had curbed that. Softened her somehow, though his impression of her was a vague memory at best. The fact he had remembered her name was a feat in itself for someone he had never anticipated seeing again.

”It was a brief meeting, she was living somewhere nearby then, I think. Somewhere to the east,” he went on, trying to dredge up the memory. When it had been had long escaped him; he couldn't recall if it was before or after he had found Nyx, or before or after his attempt to claim the weald had failed. A sigh left him then and he shook his head. It was meaningless to try and recall it when far too much filled in the blanks since then.

Which left the matter of the shell, and Jarilo's comment of it from before.

A moment of hesitation crossed him, but he soon decided: ”I could take it there, if you'd like. We may not know why she brought it here for him, but I guess it's her way of showing respect if you believe in such a thing.” Seemed fair, given the circumstances and that it had clearly affected her. Whether she was just a friend or another mistress that they had no idea of was up in the air—Dirge didn't care to find out, either. But he wouldn't let the difficulty rest on Jarilo's shoulders alone.