[ the trip, the late morning start . . . it lines up, neatly, with what he last remembers from home, and his shoulders noticeably drop an inch or so, as the tension is released. he steps forward to kiss her forehead, resting his own against hers for a long moment before dipping to intertwine his fingers with hers. keeping her close. ]

Late morning start. [ with a somewhat thin smile, but the warmth is back to his tone, now, and to his eyes, as he focuses on her. perhaps a little too much, not wanting to take in the surroundings of the ghostly vision swirling around them. ] I have no idea where we are, though, because this --

[ and he raises his hand, with animus, to gesture toward the tree. ]

-- this cannot be real.

[ time travel, to his knowledge, has not come to pass. time fluctuation, yes, but time travel? ]

And I haven't been able to find Tary, Keyleth, Vax . . . [ he trails off, obviously frustrated, but keeping his tone low. ] I have absolutely no idea where we are, or what plane, because this is not Whitestone.

[ it's some sort of damned mockery, but it certainly is not his home. ]