Should Padparadscha look towards Antarcticite now as they speak, they'll find the younger gem a rather rapt and captive audience, as though Antarcticite hopes to glean something from what Padparadscha says to ease a fear within them that is difficult to name. At length, they make a sound almost like a scoff, but it's far too polite and respectful to be something like that, and there's no derision or moodiness that accompanies Antarcticite's very serious downcast stare. "It sounds like such an easy thing to do when you say it," they reply quietly, and fidget two gloved fingers against the hilt of the sword still strapped to their hip.

It's clear that there is still something else on their mind, and once they finally summon up the courage to say it, maybe their hesitation is understandable. "Do you ever worry," they begin quietly, "about not waking up when you go to sleep here?" Translation: they clearly do, and are struggling with how to manage it.