[ She giggles softly, petting the back of Honerva's head softly, as if it could soothe those trembles. ] It's no bother at all. [ That Honerva is able to tolerate her world's hymns speaks to her patience. To Pyra, for the longest time they had meaningless chants mortals came up with to praise a deity by which they only have a name. Now they have a purpose: a thread to throw to a loved one, for if she hadn't remembered them, she wouldn't have been able to bring her friend back from a terribly harrowing memory. ]
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Or should I say... "welcome back"?