I now write this from Windaline's residence, which is an apartment in District Arborara. It is fairly large and nicely furnished, though still seems empty somehow. It does not seem too lived in, and when I commented upon this Windaline gave me a smile that I have come to recognize as an uncomfortable one.

She told reminded me that she likes to keep things very clean and even, to an obsessive extent. She began to make up a bed for me on a large divan in the living space, putting down dense, heavy blankets and bringing down several pillows from her room, one of which was in the shape of a stylized skybeast baby. She appeared exhausted and when she asked me if I needed anything else, I declined. She retreated.

Windaline's bed is on the next floor up, in a loft area, and there is a bathroom, a closet, and a kitchen on the landing that I am in, with sparse walls between them. These details came to mind and they're heartening to me. I have the feeling that I remember this place. Even these blankets seem somewhat familiar. They are heavy, almost ruglike, and they bring to mind dusky pale-brown colors and ink-colored rocks and weaponry. These must be memories. I still cannot attach them to anything more coherent.

Windaline left me a small light and from it I can survey the opposite wall. There are some paintings and photographs hanging on it, but the spacing between is slightly uneven. It seems to go against the "clean and even to an obsessive extent" statement that she gave me earlier.

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