[ Rutile is silent for a time. There is no way they can ever explain twenty-seven hundred years of adversity to Ilda. There are no words for it.

Their smile back is small, and one without warmth, though it does speak of sadness and sympathy. ] A lot, huh?... yes, you could say that.

I wouldn't call myself wise, but that you seem to think so means a great deal. All I hope for is that my words have helped you somehow.

[ It is probably too much to ask whether they were comforting. ]