"Yeah?" Wandering, plagued by spirits. Sounds like the Fade. Sounds like most everywhere, these past few years; reckon some of the lads would have a crack about Riftwatch. Cedric stretches one arm against the other – a conscious delay, a bit of breathing room – before he trails after. "How'd you end up there?"

Antiva waits steps away, on a surge of warm air; the creak of boathouse boards.