[She's silent for a while, mulling that over while staring at constellations she doesn't have names for.]


We ruined our own world, once.

I spent my most joyful days in another, more lush world, studying creatures so fantastic it was hard to believe they were even real. I liked to imagine it's what our own world was like, before it died.

Here... it feels like both the living world and the dying one, separated by a wall of fog.

I wonder if our ancestors found themselves at a crossroads like this one. I wonder if they tried to make a difference, too.