[It's a good question. A heavy question, and Gideon stares down at her plate for a moment as she thinks it through, brows pulling together in a way that makes her seem suddenly serious. She stabs at the chocolate cake with her fork, chews it in contemplation as it passes her lips. It tastes so fucking good. A whole universe away from the grim chore eating had been for most of her life. But--]

I dunno. It's complicated, I guess? Like...I don't wanna leave. I want to stay here. But I don't understand how this whole thing works, you know? And there's someone...my necromancer needs me. And she isn't here. She was, but--

[She lifts a hand then, spreads her fingers, mimes something disappearing into the air.]

I'd feel happier staying here if I understood shit better. How about you? Do you wanna go home?

[She’s interested to hear the answer, but asking also gives her some space from thinking (wondering, worrying) about Harrow.]