[center][h2][b]Ophelia[/b][/h2][/center]

The journey outside of the city gave Ophelia much cause for relief--though it was not her Hemwick, it was the closest they'd been yet to anything approaching a Yharnam she really remembered. She would not, before, have been particularly suited to make this climb--but now she reckoned she had stamina beyond what most could ever really dream of and strange new physical instincts. Becoming a Hunter really was something, but there was a restlessness to it too. She could imagine why those who'd received of the Old Blood had delved more deeply into dark and dangerous things as the caution and reason dimmed within them, and how slippery a slope it truly was. She supposed the fact that she was having these thoughts at all precluded her from beasthood at all, though it was funny how she'd begun to re-evaluate that term. She truly was interested in what the so-called Lord of Providence's creed was, what it preached, and what it wanted. She reckoned she could spent weeks or even months pontificating upon the permutations, and in so doing entirely miss the ability to interact with it at all. There was a line between doing exactly the right thing and doing nothing at all that she would have to walk, and she feared so much had happened so quickly that she had entirely lost her sense of scope.

That being said, she did think that Dietrich's assessment of the situation was rather dramatic. Sure, the Golden One was aware of their meeting and some unknown extent of their thoughts or feelings... but that singular and elevated consciousness could not transmit its knowledge to every member of the Church in a moment. The message would have to be spread around that Dietrich had been excommunicated, and people would have to believe it, and they would have to refuse him in person. For some time, at least, they still had the advantages of his station. Assuming that Harold would even issue such an order--what benefit would a sudden regime change in the middle of a Night of the Hunt do for anyone who needed stability for their plans? Harold's concerns in Yahar'gul seemed legitimate enough, and sensible besides... Then there was the point of the invitation. No, in the calmness that this walk and the moonlight provided she finally felt whatever fever had gripped her mind pass, and the influence of the Holy Moonlight Sword return to her in force.

When they finally reached the Crowmother, Ophelia nodded along to Moira's words and simply moved to follow without speaking. Whatever answers were coming could not be found here, in this moment--that was the job of the one they were on their way to meet.