Yup, the are in the same place.
The initial curiosity and excited energy Cercelee had felt when Mew first suggested the trip had been replaced by a much more melancholy feeling, one that the Rosea could not quite explain. The charred lands they had set foot on had never truly been home to Cer and she felt no personal sorrow at the remnants of destruction she saw there. The curiosity had reached it peak and climax at the arrival of Ceres Sadira’s grave. It was foreign territory to Cercelee, a place that she felt she was not permitted to go. Only once before had Laruku brought her there, she had been a small child then and it was around that time that Ceres had begun to haunt her. After Laruku had taught her who the female had been, and still was to a lot of people, Cercelee began to hear more and more remarks about the similarities of Cercelee and Ceres Sadira. And then, standing before the grave like a guilty trespasser, Cercelee imagined she could feel the presence of the matriarch all the more. It was not a wholly uncomfortable presence, but one that Cercelee did not welcome.
Having taken her cues from Mew (hoping that the Tilia hadn’t notice that Cercelee couldn’t make one name on a grave, Kiriska, from another, Ceres Sadira) the ivory pelted female briefly regarded the stone and waited until Mew was ready to leave. It was then that she had fallen silent, a silence that had followed then all the way back to where they stood, and Cercelee turned her navy eyes to the emerald ones of her friend. “I’m sorry Mew, I’ve just been thinking I suppose.” That wasn’t really an accurate description, as Cercelee had rather been trying not to think, warding off the unwanted images of a dead grandmother she never knew and didn’t care to know now.
Yet she could sense that Mew was looking for more, and she did not want to keep anything from her friend, her silence was just an old habit. Keeping everything to herself. “I am just trying to feel something. Although I lived in those lands as a child, and later as an adult, I do not feel any longing for them. Although that wolf gave life to the male who gave me life, I don’t feel anything for her either...” Cercelee looked away, almost apologetically. Mew, although Cer tended to forget this fact, was her cousin. They shared the same blood, and that blood had come from the female Cercelee so easily cast away. She did not know how Mew felt of their grandmother, she had never really asked, but she knew that many others revered her, and Cercelee did not wish to insult the female is she was among those.
