[a sassier woman would tease that it was probably just a bit of a particular kind of clarity, but that is not Cecelia Ardenbury. instead, she just breathes a thoughtful, acknowledging sound, her gaze drifting, softening her expression in contemplation.]

Even if...the world outside determines we have changed nothing...we have changed, all the same. Ourselves. And that still moves us forward.

It's not a cycle. It's a progression. [the more she says it, the more she's determined to believe it.]