( Rose doesn't even question it — that she'd set off immediately to reach Sharon, in a way that some might perceive as foolish, without thinking, without planning, just going. She has no idea what sort of dangers this world might involve, or even how to find her way around at all; she isn't thinking about any of that, but Sharon's words give her pause for a moment, something felt more internally than anything.

Her daughter sounds assuring. Despite the emotion layering everything, the gloss in her eyes, Sharon sounds like she knows exactly what to do, where to go. 'The burrow' she says; she clearly knows her way around this place. How long has she been here? (And what "version" of Sharon is she?)

It's a concept they must both be wondering, judging by her next question, and although it's so immensely difficult for Rose to stay put, she nods, willing her resolve to trust Sharon. To wait for her this time. Her heart is pounding, throat unbearably tight as she stays where she is, though paces the area, unable to stay still. )

I was... in a world called Trench. You and I were there together, for a long time. ( But not long enough, her heart reminds her, and she swallows tightly. )

This all might sound very strange, but... we came from the ocean. And one day the ocean called me back into it. That's where I just was. I was walking back to it, I'd— I'd just said goodbye to you. ( It might sound insane if this Sharon isn't familiar with any of that, and Rose tries yet again to keep it together, but her shoulders are shaking, and something in her voice catches. The memory is so fresh that it still burns deep in her soul, some awful aching place. Saying goodbye to that version of her daughter was the hardest thing she'd ever done. Rose closes her eyes, head dipped as she relives it again and again. )

We'd found multiple versions, or... different timelines of each other before. We kept finding each other.