![[Image: 7kzca8d9k67.png]](https://cdn.imgchest.com/files/7kzca8d9k67.png)
A few years go by, the outpost left empty.
Moss growing upon the old building, dust gathering on the windowsills.
Fwip, fwip, fwip!
A feather duster diligently put to work, a woman with pale purple hair, a kerchief wrapped around her mouth.
A faint look of determination, a touch of loneliness.
"Cadet Billy, you said? Can you bring the books out to dry in the sun? I'm afraid with leaving them indoors for so long... they might have soaked up too much moisture."
The aerodyne calls out to her helper, her hand silently clasping a single folded letter held within her jacket pocket.
A quiet sneeze as a plume of dust assaults her, and a soft mumble to herself.
"I'll take care of here, until you can finally come back home..."
[Cielia Meanderwing resumes the vigil over the Tree of Song.]
The aerodyne calls out to her helper, her hand silently clasping a single folded letter held within her jacket pocket.
A quiet sneeze as a plume of dust assaults her, and a soft mumble to herself.
"I'll take care of here, until you can finally come back home..."
[Cielia Meanderwing resumes the vigil over the Tree of Song.]