[The words brush across her skin and lodge themselves in her heart, or her throat, along with her own words in response. There's something about what Elda says that paralyzes her, in the best way possible. Her nearest horn... It brushes against Elda's cheek. It's purposeful.]

To feel...free and young again. [Though she sounds wistful, as if it's truly beyond her, there's a mite more hope there, than usual.] Perhaps...the both of us, one day...

I'm sure you know, Elda, that sentiment means more to me than I could ever describe.