That's the tragedy of it, isn't it. The reasons change, but the dance itself is almost always the same.

[ She won't insult your intelligence by assuming that you don't understand. She might be far older than you, but the experiences you have had surpass the stases of many functional immortals that she's become acquainted with.

Taking another sip, and smoothing her fingers along the rim of her cup before reaching over. She'd like an extra shot in her coffee now. ]

We had enough time to prepare. [ A beat. ] Things will work out somehow.

[ "We", because you had your pieces and she had yours. Because you know, as well as she does, that Alistair's reach goes far. Because maybe she needs to say it in order to believe it, and maybe you need to hear it too. ]