She flushes slightly, then laughs it away, a sound the night air seems to play with and not quite want to let go of. "I was speaking of sleeping under the open sky! Though, in all likelihood I've done that more than a time or two, as well. The lack of shame and instincts with the act make the argument, anyway."

She grows more serious, considering his question, and her own reactions. The hints of the past were useful almost constantly, but there was a price.

"There are times when I see small children, and I want to weep with no idea why. Like I've lost something too precious to ever be replaced. There are others where I see something and it's like deja vu, except the fact I don't remember doing it before is the bitter part." She pauses slightly. "I have no illusions about starting entirely fresh. The fragments of who I was will always be part of the foundations, but I'm still choosing what to build on them. That has to be enough, because it's all I have."