[ People either figure out how to get by, or they don't. Yes, Fern knows that all too well herself, as someone who's survived against all odds. That won't change no matter what world or plane one ends up on.

Thirty years, though. Fern turns her gaze away for a moment at that, literally chewing on that information as she takes another bite from the skewer. She tries to imagine what it would be like to be in this place or Barovia for thirty years and it's frankly impossible to imagine, especially when she's been living one day at a time ever since she arrived in Strahd's realm.

She continues to stare out at nothing when she speaks up. She's looking in the general direction of the pool, but not truly looking at it. ]

... You were never interested in returning to your home, then?

[ No doubt he's been in countless diffusion zones. If there had been a way back, wouldn't he have found it by now? Then again, others had disappeared, but if they did make it home, it's not as if they would be able to confirm that for anyone still here.

But then something else clicks for her. If he's a well-known storm chaser, then— ]

Wait. [ She turns back to him. ] Are you the one who put up those fliers and posted on the... [ She gestures with her free hand to her cloak, where her phone is tucked away in her pocket. ] That... forum?