"H-hey, did I ever tell you guys the story of the gnome who adopted a gray render? Maaan, that's a great one." Aya said through a mouthful of noodles (one or two hanging from her mouth) as she gazed around the room. It was an eerie feeling, actually. So few familiar faces, yet in a way she felt like she had come to know all the women that she'd fought alongside. And so many were already dead, taken before their time. The mage, the cleric, the druid... all died deaths nobody had even noticed amidst the carnage. No funerals, nothing. Why had Aya, of all people, been one of the only to survive?<br/><br/>"...It's kinda long, though," she murmered, pushing away a piece of turnip she hadn't realized she'd gotten as she picked at her salad. Had she survived to tell the story? It was quite the impressive one, wasn't it. She'd have to make sure she did it justice -- maybe turn it into a song.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>