Dragoncrest Cliffs déjà vu

She didn’t think she’d spoken that name out loud in years. She’d rarely had occasion to share her alias, either, but she’d thought of herself as Javelina Basilisk for so long. Just saying the old name aloud filled her with a sense of yearning. She’d come home. Once more, she was Druid of Rivenwood.

Her heart fell a little when Val told her Mireille might not be home, though it lifted again the very next moment when she realized what this meant: she was still in Sappique and, by the sound of it, she was indeed doing well. Druid’s expression softened into a fond smile.

She considered Val’s offer, then said, Thank you for offering, Val, but I don’t want to impose. I just— She paused abruptly to gather her thoughts. I haven’t seen her in years. And I don’t know what she would think if she saw me now. How is she?

She was here, possibly thriving, but Druid wanted to know specifics. What had Mireille done with these past two years? Anything Val could tell her, she would gladly listen, tucking the knowledge close to her heart, next to all her memories of her dear friend.