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

"Your concern is touching, love, but fear not. We wouldn't head there immediately in any case--there are other things to do first. I simply wanted to know whether we'd have to chase the chalice down in the Waking World! No, first we shall fulfil the most basic of the Queen's requests and obtain the chalice there. Once we've obtained that, you seem to have a good sense of how perilous the corresponding bits of labyrinth are and I would be glad for your guidance. If even that chalice is a little beyond us, we can certainly go through easier ones first and obtain blood echoes to become stronger with... That'd serve us well for our tasks in the Waking World too. I'd like to have the Holy Moonlight Sword back at its full strength before we traipse into the deeper parts of the labyrinth, not only for the benefits in combat but also for its profound wisdom." Ophelia retorted with a gentle smile. Much knowledge had been gleaned from the Old Labyrinth by a great many people over the years, and Ophelia intended for them to join those illustrious ranks--albeit with a much healthier dose of caution than they had exercised. With that done she offered the Doll and the Shopkeeper a curtsey and headed over to Torquil once more and sat beside him.

"Your new eyes are quite beautiful, in their own way, dear. Whatever choice you make, we're with you." She began, before slipping her right hand into his left hand if he'd let her and interlacing their fingers. "I won't ever forget that you sacrificed yourself to save us without knowing that you'd come back, you know? It was a very sweet and noble thing to do, and I'm so very grateful to have you with us. I couldn't ask for better company." She spoke, looking up at the moon with wide eyes. She'd done better for herself than he had, or... at least had been luckier, but from what little she knew of his past she felt a particular kinship with this strange man from the woods. They were both outsiders who'd never really fit in--one could say many things about the Witches of Hemwick, but never that they were typical or ordinary in any sense. She sensed a certain feeling of loss and melancholy from him that she knew well, though she wasn't certain that he'd ever found anything resembling meaningful connection before tonight. He [i]had[/i] helped them a great deal, even when he didn't understand what was going on. He'd put his trust in them, in her, and she hoped he knew that she did truly value that connection--she valued it with all of them.

"I'm sorry about you having to give up the arm, Farren. I didn't dare attempt to mislead her, and figured her favour was worth more to us than some piece of a corpse we had no guarantee of being able to use. Still, I feel like I've snatched a prize away from you, and if I can make it up to you somehow I'd be glad to." She called out to Farren after a few seconds, suddenly remembering her earlier convictions amidst the sudden strangeness that had occurred.