Approaching Crow and Sky, Imara finds herself drawn to the conversation. A morbid curiosity, but reminiscent of a conversation she had once had with her brother, back when they were still family and not coworkers as they are now. Imara needed the distraction from the revelations she had just seen. "One could postulate, that the connection between the lower soul and the Neverborn is that we are all a pattern, and common parts work closely together. When the Neverborn were broken, the last emotion that they felt must have been similar to that which most of us feel." Imara nods to Crow, "You said that the passion is what makes the ghost. Revenge, hatred, purpose, fear, compassion. Could these all be mirrors of the feelings the Neverborn felt as they were cast down. If so, then we may have our work cut out for us, what with the way patterns connect, breaking the pattern may be found as difficult. This pattern being what draws the lost soul, to the Neverborn as opposed to return and roost in the natural order and cycle."<br/><br/>Placing the unopened box next to herself on the low table, Imara reaches out with both hands to the conversing pair. The broad and tall dark skinned man that had entered with her lifted the box, into safe keeping, next to the one he had been offered. Extending a hand to each, her right to Crow, left to Sky, "I am Imara, I hope you don't mind my interruption of your postulations. That is Iselsi Vedaa, and this is Witness, my friend of a different path." Vedaa stayed near the entrance, as the pair had begun to circulate  the room. His disdain for being here, not concealed well, but at least an effort was being made. Witness offered a nod, but continued to marvel at those around him, while keeping a motherly eye on Imara. When she is ready, he draws a seat  closer for her to settle to, assisting with a care almost for the infirm. Imara bats the assist with a half-hearted hand.<br/>"My brother and I have had many conversations pertaining to the Malfeans and the Wyld, Malfeans also have minions, truly splinters of themselves that follow certain patterns. Patterns established by the root demon. Malfeans and neverborn require the creativity of man. None of these beings are capable of creating. Replicating existing patterns, adjusting a pattern to a new purpose, but never able to actually come up with a new pattern. I suppose I understand, coming up with a truly new concept would be trying. Everything that we make of ourselves is patterned from what else we see. What we are exposed to. Even the chaos, the Wyld seeks stability, pattern. The hobgoblin establishing a power structure by incorporating a less strong goblin within it's domain. Why do you think freeholds have rules. Rules that can change surely, but rules. I am sorry, I bounce from conversation to conversation as if you were part of them. These are just quick summaries of previous conversations Vedaa and i have had."