"I am not injured," she confirms, which is not the same thing as being all right. "I realize this is a weird question, but what year is it?"

"It's, ah, 1329 AE. Are you sure you're...?"

She lets out a breath. 1329 AE. That's... such an impossibly large number. She flicks a finger to do some quick illusionary math. 263 years. That... is a very long time.

"I was in the Mists," she says very softly, staring at her little illusionary numbers. "And just finally found my way out. I don't think I'm all right."

"Oh, fuck," he says. "I'm so sorry. How—how long...?" He saw the numbers but they—they could be anything, and time in the Mists doesn't necessarily pass at the same rate...

"I'm from Orr," she says, a little wryly. Her body language is casual, but her eyes are sad.

"That's—it—it was destroyed over two hundred and fifty years ago—" He takes a step forward, then looks down at his hands and quickly unclasps his gloves and removes his shoulder guards (the fire in these pieces going out as soon as they get detached from him). He leaves the pieces of armour behind and takes another tentative step forward—not so threatening, anymore, without the spikes and the fire...

"I know," she agrees, softly. "Shortly after I—got lost."

She looks at him, and doesn't... really know what to say. What could she possibly say?

Yeah this... looks like a hugging situation. He takes the extra two steps needed to reach her—he's a tall guy—and slowly, with enough time and space for her to back away if she wants to, hugs her.

Oh. Oh, hugs are things that people can have when they're not in the Mists, aren't they. Yes. Sure. That.

She's just going to tip ever so delicately into him to sob into one of his available shoulders. That sounds like the thing to do right now.

He's warm—either because of the fire that was around him just now, or because of the battle, or because that's just how he is—and he's actually very tall. He wraps his arms around her and lets her sob, not saying anything. He's not sure there's anything to say.

If there are things to say, she definitely doesn't know what they are. She's just... she's so tired, yet also strangely wired. She wants nothing more than to collapse and cry forever, except for how she wants to never ever cry again and go live a long and aggressively happy life just to spite the Mists, because fuck that fucking place.

"Well. I did it. I made it out. D-do I get a prize?" she mumbles into his shoulder.

He chuckles a chuckle that rocks his whole body. "I'm not sure I have prizes to distribute; I left them all back home. I apologise for my lack of foresight."

"'Sfine. This also works." She squeezes him a little. "And I'm not even crazy." She blurbles a little half-giggle, half-sob. "I think."

"I can testify to that. You look and sound one hundred percent non-crazy, and I would know, I have fought a lot of crazy before."

There is the little giggle-sob again.

"Lucky you," she informs him.

"Oh, no, I guarantee you that to find this much crazy to fight it takes more than luck; it takes skill."

Well now she's just helplessly giggle-sobbing into his shoulder. Look at what he's done.

That's alright, they can hug for a while and he can very carefully run his hand down her back slowly in soothing motions.

"Were you in the middle of something?" she wonders, after the sobs have sort of... calmed down for a little while.

"In a manner of speaking. I was... investigating this place."

'This place' being the barely described cave, which now that she can pay attention to it seems rather... expansive. The ceiling is very high—some twenty or thirty meters high—and there are red crystals everywhere, emanating an eerie red glow that's the main source of light in the cave. There are floating stones, boulders—in fact, there's one piece of floating rock large enough to support what looks to be a small stone arena or temple of sorts. There are trails of orange and blue light flowing in the air from place to place, but they don't seem to do... anything. Just exist, and be pretty.

She hums a confirmation.

"Well, if you're in any kind of rush, just, you know. Pick me up and carry me with you to where you need to go, because I'm not unhugging right now, sorry."

He laughs again. "I am afraid my investigation might involve some more physical altercations so I will perhaps wait until the hugging is done."

"Ugh. How very reasonable of you."

"I cannot claim to always be reasonable, but I do try to at least sometimes be."

Giggle.

"That's the spirit." Leaaaan. He's very warm and comfy. Very quietly, she wonders, "... Now what?"