[Eshai stops before a small door. It's a faded, stale sunshine sort of yellow, made of rough individual planking. More than anything it looks out of place in regards to the decor. She pushes it open and steps inside with a final look over her shoulder an indication that he should accompany her.

Inside, the room continues this trend of stylistic dissonance. The walls are done in yellow lacquer, and there is no visible ceiling, though mist swirls up near the top.]

When people leave this place - in a manner in which I am not an active participant - an echo remains. A footprint, if you will. Everyone leaves their mark on this world, one way or another. If he's gone, you will hear him.