Where she'd been coiled about his mind, she felt him open the door. He'd done it once before, given her a clear path to show her he had died without even needing to put words to it. This was...decidedly different. And so she loosened herself, uncurling about his thoughts, and slipped inside for the first time in months.

She didn't go rooting around or looking for things. Instead, she made her home there, like a dog come to the fireplace to warm itself. She rested there, nestled in his thoughts. I'm here. I'm here. A litany of reassurance.

He touched her arm. Neria turned towards him and pressed back in close, shoulder to shoulder, and she rested her head there for a moment. She breathed him in and felt at peace for the first time since they'd returned from Ardismouth.