Sana rose a slender brow as the man began to speak, he seemed to like to speak with a flowery way. She sat there as they cantered along the path, keeping an eye out on their surroundings but taking in what he said and thinking about it for a moment before she decided to speak once again. 

	"Loss in the winter is expected, it is prepared for, braced for and for some even longed for." she asked as she pulled the hood of her mantle back and let it fall around her shoulders. Turning to look at him and only seeing his eyes through the slit of the helmet. 

	"And what does one do when the flower is burnt to ash in the Summer of its life?" she asked before looking away once again. She wasn't really expecting an answer nor was she wanting one if she was truthful with herself. Death happened, she knew that and in time the pain lessened either from the simple dullness that time brought about or from finding something that helped to heal the wounds of loss. Fresh wounds though needed to be open to breath otherwise they would never heal, though sadly it was not a way that she practiced.