Two figures, walking through a forest, to an old tower at the village's edge. One figure is wrapped in a blanket, shivering in the cool autumn evening - the other stops in her stride regularly to let her companion catch up to her.
They come to the tower's door, and the taller, uncloaked woman knocks. The building is old, but the door is relatively new - a place restored, healed from ruin. She gently holds her arm around her cloaked beloved - her wife, her precious Guin, who looks back at her with a warm expression, despite the bags of exhaustion under her eyes - those oddly golden eyes, no longer the familiar brown Ammy knows so well - and the strange rashes on her face.
Eeee~!β¨πβ¨
