Her jaw works. Her jaw keeps working, and her throat swallows convulsively as she breathes very sharply through her nose, gropes in the air for a thing nearby to hold herself to as the world shifts. Cold. She's cold and she hates it, hates it, hates-- "Even other worlds, you can't escape it. Can't escape anything no matter what you do. Better to be dead than to be a thing shaped how they like unless they kill you when it doesn't take."

That happened. They all knew when that happened when the lonely toast was raised in the dark in the trees.

"Once I get to where I can hunt, the first two I can cover. Not all Bosmer keep all our ways so strict but I was raised to honour the Green Pact, some things…the farther from home in a place that doesn't want you, the more you keep them." Maybe here it's going to be more difficult if she'll be expected to live amongst them all the time, to eat by them, to work with them, where they don't know Bosmer or even a single story of them. A thing she can sort through since it doesn't trouble her to find the time to be alone. Her preference when it wasn't the few families she found. (Misses them. Misses them already.) "They pay us here? Really." Brónach almost laughs. Almost. The guild, the dark brotherhood, the companions? It made sense to get paid there but this? Well she didn't reckon on it.