[ After a few days on the opulent air ship, Elena can honestly say she's glad to be back on the ground. The road isn't easy, but it's better than being stuck with no way to run from a murderer should one come knocking at their door. There's still no one to blame for those deaths in the sauna and while she's trying to do her part and keep an eye on the other factions, she still has absolutely no idea who it might possibly be -- which unfortunately means being on guard all the time.

Her enhanced senses help make that a little easier, at least, and she's able to take in their surroundings on the journey. Along the way to their destination, she notes how those cliffs are so different from the Appalachians she climbed as a kid, the landscape nothing like back in Virginia. There's too much stone, the grass is the wrong color, the animals are strange. And yet, as they descend the winding road into the village, there's something about it that calls to her, perhaps because she grew up somewhere small and closeknit, just as this place seems to be. And then there's that welcome, the display of hospitality as the locals come out to greet them, and she graciously accepts the small gift offered to her. As one of the only things she now possesses as her own, she'll cherish it, admiring the small pearl on the pin before slipping it into her hair as soon as they're safely in their lodgings. ]

[ Relax, they'd said. Take in the history of the village. So that's what she does. For two days, Elena wanders the village, taking in the sights and sounds, listening to the stories told by the craftsmen and perusing the wares for sale. She has nothing to barter with, but there isn't much that she needs here, so she just enjoys the displays of life and purpose.

Happening across the jewelry and pottery stands, she considers the invitation to take part in their creation herself, but ultimately declines -- artistic efforts were never her forte, but she does enjoy watching the artisans and her fellow hosts work at making the lovely pieces. It's when she finds the fishermen that she steps forward, the physical activities soothing as it requires concentration, effort, and doesn't require that there be an artistic bone in her body. In fact, she proves to be pretty good at following the directions of the fishermen, and it's easy for her to pull in the fish with her enhanced strength. The work leaves her feeling fulfilled, though being out on the water begins to take its toll on her by the end of the second day. ]

[ Sitting beside a sea the color of old blood, the sound of water drifts through the air around Elena, wearing away at her soul the way the waves have worn the stones here. Twenty-six days, her heart reminds her; almost four weeks have passed since that night. Four weeks of avoiding really thinking about it, not letting herself fully grieve. Perhaps it's the peace of the last few days that lets it happen now, whereas every other time those emotions were cut short by one thing or another. Here and now, she's run out of things to keep herself occupied and her thoughts keep wandering back to that singular fact:

Twenty-six days ago, she died.

The rock she's settled on has been cleared of algae, brushed off so nothing stains her robes, though it does nothing for her comfort. That's not something she's concerned with, of course, and no matter how uncomfortable it might be, she doesn't leave that spot for hours, just sitting there beside the water, staring out and trying hard to keep her sorrow and grief safely muffled behind her watery shields. It doesn't always work though, and she has to hope that the only people who notice it are the ones who won't really care. She has to work through this, has to feel these things if she ever wants a chance at living a better kind of life. ]

[ WILDCARD OPTION. Do the thing. ]