[The embrace catches her by surprise. Kanaya is also very conservative about such expressions; each one is a distinct memory. The last time was in fact over four and a half months ago - underneath the hot hands of the human girl who broke her spade. And then the transient grasp on Feferi, an apparition. It goes on backwards like that, spaced weeks and weeks apart. Backwards and backwards and backwards until she's cold and alone in the veil, pushing away a troll she loved once without knowing that would be all she saw of her for over half a sweep, waiting to get verdiburned to double death by the Demon - something that still might very well come to pass in their precious alpha timeline.

She puts her arms around Nepeta and takes (not pulling) fistfuls of her long conditioned hair. It is a beautiful echo of the Disciple and Dolorosa. Everything is greenbloods and nothing hurts. This close Kanaya can feel and smell her olive pumpbiscuit; beating unanswered by her own dead ribcage.]

We don't have to go back and remember fates that aren't ours and never see each other again. We're alive here; or at least you are, but I mean our eyes aren't white here. There's a future for us that we'll discover by existing and not being told.