[ Athessa gestures noncommitally at roughly the speed you'd expect from someone neck deep in treacle. ]

Not unless another clan wants to take pity on me, but I'm not even sure I'd want it, anyway.

[ She turns her head to regard him, her expression of awe muted by the elfroot haze and the languid relaxation it brings. The structural integrity of a Beanie Baby™. ]

I wish I could be not sad about stuff. Is that on purpose?