Gideon snorts. "I've survived more assassination attempts than I've attended dinner parties," she says. Admittedly, the dinner party number is so low that's not as impressive as it sounds. Still. "We both deserve some 'not too bad' as far as I see it." Something lacking the fate of the universe. Sure, Gideon remembers the spiel about becoming her better self. She's choosing not to think too closely on that yet. She refuses to be the one to turn this reunion into a sob fest. Or a navel gazing party.

Gideon looks across at the free beach underwear and food and people dancing and people swimming. Swimming could be it? It doesn't feel like a Harrowhark setting. Too many people. Not enough prayers. "Yeah?" Gideon stares down at her and uses the moment to bite off a large chunk of her protein on a stick.