#{hgdfkj yes...}

          “--Yes,”

     The response spills from her lips without any thought, leaving before the older trainer could even hope to stop herself and think of something better to say. There is little Serena could have done to prepare herself for a situation like this, and it seems that even after a grand total of five minutes of hastily reassuring herself it would be all right, any words that had been prepared beforehand have vanished. 

         “It... wouldn’t be wrong of me to assume your name is the same, would it?”

     A gaze, dulled by something indescribable and not at all out of distaste or fear, forces itself to focus on the girl’s visage once more, and though her shoulders drop ever so slightly, the heroine’s mind only continues to race-- to piece it all together, even if there is not much to go on. Surely, this cannot be her from all those years ago-- she hardly ever remembers wearing her hair like that, if only because of the way it constantly, and quite painfully, tugged at her roots. Perhaps it is more likely that they are simply just alternate versions of one another-- that is possible, given what few bits of information she has been told about this place regarding the people who appear.      Still, it would do no good to drown in silence when Serena is certain that the other must have questions of her own.

          “I wonder what changed... You’re not at all how I remember myself, and something tells me we would not be identical, even if you were my age,”

     ‘--which isn’t necessarily a bad thing’ her mind quips, although it hardly seems to be the right time or place for self-depreciative humour, not matter how witty she thinks the remark to be. Serena’s arms move to cross in front of her chest, the tips of fingers subtly grasping onto the fabric at her side as though the action, in itself, would keep the trainer grounded and her anxieties quelled.