It truly doesn’t sound good, and Astrid’s nose crinkles in distaste. Vega’s words are withering enough, too, that it seems the other woman isn’t exactly homesick.

“So why’d you leave?” she asks, impulsive. They’ve been out in the woods together, Vega has suffered Astrid’s cheerful chattering on the road, they’ve bunked together in the rubble, but she can’t remember ever actually asking this before. “Tired of ’em wasting your time with fruit spoons?”

There’s such variety in what brings people to Riftwatch: some under duress, some of their own volition, and she’s suddenly very interested to figure out which one Lady Arany is.