[It's an odd thing to hear, that someone likes spending time with her. In her time here, Shadowheart's made few enough friends, and John is only one of two she'd consider close.

Aside from Scratch, of course, she thinks fondly, as she watches the dog stick his nose in the water and startle himself by blowing a large bubble.]

That's sweet of you. [And she means it.] But it's more than what will happen to me. I have memories of a future, now, in which my friends die, or worse. Saving the world is all well and good – not that I believe for a second that's truly what we've been brought here for – but what of saving them?