Cassandra is lost in the drawing, pencil moving over the journals page easily. It had taken her a long time to find her art again. After the Briarwoods... well, it had gone from her. Rome had helped her find it. Daud, and Sunny, and Magnus, James... they’d all helped her find it again. (They’d helped her find herself, too. As much as Rome had.) And now she’s drawing, painting again.

She’s aware of someone watching her, trying to discretely watch, so it’s not entirely a surprise to hear a voice speak up. She looks up from her drawing (of the signpost for Gazin, this time, her first sight upon arriving in this world), and smiles.

“Thank you.”