"Yes, I..." She glances down at herself, her gangly limbs that she hasn't quite grown into yet and hands just barely big enough to work the rifle she's holding.

Eda is so tall.

"Do you know where we are?"

All the portraits on the trees are of Eda, she realizes. Some of them show a girl barely older than herself, with hair that's a shade of red she's never seen on Eda, but it's still Eda. And if these are Eda's portraits, Eda must know where they are.

"Is this another dream? Is this your dream?"