The Tangle welcome to the panic room

Mmmm.  Over the course of the last year or so, Rosalyn had found it harder to hold onto faces who were no longer fixtures.  There'd been so much change and so many strangers that they seemed to pass through like a sieve... in one moment, gone the next.  She dimly recalled meeting a few who she could claim kinship in scars to, but she would not have pegged this man to be one on sight.

Is that so?  There was a time she had hated the way the scars made her look, and when she'd sought to draw attention from them.  Now she was past caring and her full face was on display as she watched him.  Rosalyn.  

She looked past him, just to ensure he was alone, before she continued.  What brings you near the cliffs?  Did we leave that strong an impression?  She smirked, though she knew he was not there to seek them out.  Honestly she should probably hope that; Rusalka's 'impressions' tended to bite them more often than not.

WC: 173