( heimr pauses, and he can't quite look caoimhe in the eye. his grief is palpable, regardless. )

I have outlived everyone I knew and loved, save my sister and, to my surprise, my kids and dog. Except my children don't believe that I'm me, and my dog don't recognize me. I watched my best friends tear themselves apart tryin' to save this place. I had to resign myself to the deaths of hundreds in a last ditch effort to save them, an' it didn't even work.

The only thing goin' for me, Caoimhe, is that I'm immune to the Forest's touch.

How could anyone be happy like this?