[ She nearly drops the next flower she had been about to place in his hair. ] Three... [ Three years, all away from the world into which he had born.

From her initial exclamation of surprise, her voice drops to almost a whisper.

So. It truly must have been quite a while since he’s seen these sylleblossoms, not to mention be in the presence of them or smell them. Suddenly, she thinks to his camera— all the photos he takes, his keen eye for composition and art— and if she had a heart, it would sink with sorrow. How much is with him to remind him of his homeworld, she wonders, besides what pictures he has stored of it within his camera? ]

So when we climbed that mountain in VR, and it showed that memory of yours... [ She draws a breath. ] I hadn’t realized you hadn’t been there in so long.