good night, sweet prince

"Have you considered showering? Or having a shave, perhaps? I think a chipmunk has taken up residence in your hair," she says with a soft laugh, Isla wiping at her eyes and sniffing, straightening herself up to look at him properly. The fact that there's no surprise, no happy reunion, no... anything, is enough to put her on edge, much as she just wants to bask in seeing her friend again. "I'm not playing a game, Remi," she says, shaking her head. "I'm Isla. The Voice, she... at the Festival of Lights, don't ask me how." It sounds ridiculous to her logical mind, but so much has happened regardless. "I'm not the only one who came back. She gave everyone a choice. I came back. I'm here, I swear." She holds out her hands, like that's evidence that she's real. ISLA pray for me pray to me