[center][h2][b]Ophelia[/b][/h2][/center]

Ophelia nodded thoughtfully at the sudden revelation, though her expression did not seem saddened or dismayed. Instead she simply seemed serene, as calm and placid as a perfectly still lake. She gave the shopkeeper and the doll a little upnod, beckoning the former to stand, and sighed wistfully before she spoke again.

"... You've nothing to apologise for, dear. That night, the Night of the Blood Moon... if you are indeed the one who spared all Yharnam a grisly fate, it was a worthwhile trade. They... they would want to know that life and death continued apace, that all their insight and knowledge went towards protecting Hemwick. Bound also to this Dream as I am, I suppose that is my legacy now. Rise, Good Hunter, and know that no offence is taken." Ophelia mused, a wan smile creeping across her face as she recounted memories of her studies and sojourns into the deep and dark woods. She had another guide, now, and Farren and Torquil to take on as her own pupils. She knew that the witches would be proud of her, in their own way, for continuing their work--something, thanks to the ministration, she was now able to do... and, being almost immortal, what better guardian could Hemwick ask for?