Hoshor Plains a glass of chardonnay with ghosts

At this time of her life Wraen was past exuberant outbursts of excitement, when she happened to cross paths with a close relative of hers. She recognized the girl by her name, though the face had altered from that very small singing kid she so clearly remembered and, if she recalled a brief encounter during the girl's adolescence, she could have drawn more comparisons. Instead of expressing that she knew either, Wraen listened with quiet interest and meditated on, what she could reply. 

"You are one of Terance's, right?" Wraen finally asked to confirm, what she felt was right. "And Sarah happened to be your aunt, didn't she? It's been a lifetime, since I have met either of them. Come to think of it," she paused, "I don't even remember their faces anymore." Here she sighed and looked up at the swirling snowflakes, as if expecting them to provide her with the images of her siblings. "I don't know you either, though once I did. That's, what lifetime does to people," she turned her green gaze back at Ibis and smiled a little sadly.