[Trish watches with naked awe. Honestly, it's not often that this world offers a wonder that is purely...enjoyable.

Rare, so very rare.

The room changes, and changes, and it's warm, a blue sky appearing overhead, and stone wrapping them in its rigid arms.

Atem changes too. She's come to know him well as a vampire most of all, but she never forgot the little Pharaoh that sat with her in the kitchen that day. He was warm and alive when she carried him to safety there.

Now he's taller in general, but he looks so similar to the way he did then, a grown-up version of the baby Pharaoh for sure. He had quite a name too for such a little fellow, didn't he? It's not like she didn't believe him either, about Egypt or ka or the bad spirits chasing him, but seeing this? This is proof of memories he could only speak about, made tactile, made nearly real.

It takes her a second to join him herself, but she hasn't ever let go. Where there was a pink bear, there's now Trish as she was the week she was taken across Italy. She has her math symbol-print skirt, and while she's still taller than him, it's only just. She marvels at herself too, inspecting arms that are absent of pink fur, and she runs a tentative hand across smooth skin.]

I don't really match, do I?

[He fits this scene so well...it really can't be anywhere but his home.

A home long gone, too. Maybe not while he was living it, but she remembers what he said about being a ghost.

She peers up at the sky again, marveling at the quasi-feeling of cooler air wafting around them.]

I can hardly believe it...it feels real.

[And then she looks to Atem himself. Because as nice as it feels, she's not here to get lost in the moment. She's here to spend time with him.]

Tell me more about this place, won't you? About you, too. The you outside of Ryslig.