[ Trahearne dutifully falls in step alongside her, gaze naturally falling to the picture in his hands again. It's a bit weird seeing his dream immortalized in an image like this, to see his face so clearly when he's used to the vague impressions and feelings he's often left with in his dreams.

He doesn't notice the smile on his own face when Beatrix asks; it's there when he looks up at her.

Ah, he remembers them discussing a similar thing on the beach, all those moons ago. It feels like such a distant memory now. They're closer compared to them. Most definitively friends, instead of interested acquaintances. It's about time he be more honest with her. ]

Often. When I dream, it's almost always of home. I love Tyria and all the people in it, and I would return in a heartbeat.

[ His expression drops, as does his gaze back onto the photo. Gently, he runs a finger over their faces. ] But I love it so much that I gave my all to protect it. [ A pause as his mouth twists slightly. Though he's accepted the reality by now, it still stings. ] I am dead, Beatrix. I cannot return home, no matter how much I want to.