He gave her small, but sincere smile back as she said this. He looked up at the stars, through the wispy clouds, and clumps of fire smoke gently blocking out, but adding to the beauty of the view. It was a still and quiet night. This emulated his youth. When he was a younger man, he loved the feeling. It made meditation so raw, so perfect...
He looked down to the ruin of the house and quickly regained composure. This house emulated his present reality. Instead of giving him comfort, the feeling made him wary. He followed her into the house. As she shook her head, he tried to smell anything that could of interest. The flames, the wood, the smoke. He tried to go further. He could smell the burnt bread, and a rotting apple in a cabinet across the room. He frowned, but immediately was surprised by a new scent. Following it, he walked over, and put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. He bent down, moved a piece of wood, and picked up part of a tattered blue robe. "Don't worry, it wasn't one of us." He tossed the robe onto a smolder carelessly and stood up. Something didn't seem right. He looked around nervously. "I don't sense anyone nearby, but we should be cautious," he said grimly.