"It sounds strange." Beautiful should be the first word here perhaps but it doesn't seem right to say that though the mist does sound ethereal. Looking down to deliver the buttons to the jar, "You're good at describing it.
"Do you feel... like you could be home, here? Somewhere so different?"
"Home is the Qun." That isn't a lie, but it's only one truth. You learn to hold them together, the pieces side-by-side. Dangerous, strange, home. "And your harbor has fog enough."
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"Do you feel... like you could be home, here? Somewhere so different?"
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"This is very different from road,"
A prompt. Gela had traveled light.