She makes to say no, but hesitates. While the first portion had nothing to do with that dreadful place the last... She hiccoughs, feeling simultaneously cold and hot; skin sweaty, hands clammy, scales itching. Being sick isn't something she has any memory of and it's a surprise to her to feel such a way right now. It certainly isn't helping move on from her dream - nightmare? - any more easily.

"He died," Era whispers, staring down at her hands. Her fingers clench, remembering how Haurchefant's went limp in them so many moons ago. It was his choice to take that blow for her and she knows she shouldn't disrespect his decision, yet Era still feels like it was her fault he died. Not even slaying Zephirin rid her of that burden.