Perhaps more fascinating when not considered so intimately. Do we now go on eternally with the tree? Do we together whither away with each passing of the moon, only to twist into a perverse mimicry by morning?

Do we forget? What else has been taken from us?

[ No, the dignity of death may not apply to this city, but she's reluctant to believe it. It seems he understands enough of her point, at least. Few people here seem to appreciate poetry, so Vanessa will take what she can get on the matter. ]

Have you witnessed it? The supposed eternity we have been granted?