#(crying) here!!!!

Dogma has been praying for some things. His sister. The rest of the Nameless Town. A more comfortable bed. Forgiveness. Any sign of spring. He can’t stop thinking about the last one, actually. He can’t stop thinking about the vines winding their way up his church, about the turnimps and carrots in the communal garden that everyone worked so hard to help grow. He can’t stop wishing for even the barest glimpse of that.

So when he sees that buttercup dress flashing so bright against the snow--well, it’s like a dream come true.

“Gardenia!” He can’t help but rush to her, stumbling a little in the snows, surging with gratitude. Thank you, Lord, for granting me such a welcome sight--only then he remembers everything Russell told him, and his pace slows, and the smile he’d been wearing falters and falls.

“Gardenia--what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be--” Where? Where should she be? In a dream? In a grave? How would you ask that? Gardenia, it’s so good to see you, only the last I heard is we were all dead, so isn’t it funny that we can meet each other here? What do you think that means?

He closes his eyes, draws in a deep breath, shakes his head. “Never mind that. It’s so good to see you well.”