[h3]The Hunter's Dream[/h3]
[I]“She is a Huntress like you, but it did not choose her. It chose you, Wielder, so her glory could never match yours. But she has great affinity for the arcane... and is also shifted across realities. Though you have a connection to the Nightmare, hers is stronger. She appears to exist in the Interstice,”[/I] the whispers of the Holy Moonlight Sword replied to Ophelia's expression of wonder. Ophelia would almost certainly have no recognition of the word invoked here as a proper noun, “the Interstice”, though from the context it probably had something to do with realms of the Nightmare.

Torquil, meanwhile, had his own series of reactions to his first encounter with Gerlinde, though he did not interrogate his own feelings enough to think much of them beyond finding them momentarily interesting. His first reaction was probably the most predictable and primal, as the sight of her beautiful visage and provocative garb quite simply aroused him. This was mainly interesting to him because he had barely even been aware of his own sexuality until now, or if he even had one. He had had a vague, instinctive sense that his brain treated Ophelia as a potential mate and not Farren or Victor, but until now it had been a sort of detached conclusion without any kind of drive to pursue anything of the sort. Until this moment he had all but assumed himself to be asexual... but now he realized that he had been mistaken. He felt hormones flooding his body and brain, telling him that part of him was still human, and that he wanted to do something quite human with this woman.
His second reaction was much more surprising and concerning than the first, though: he felt angry. That sense of loneliness that had hung over his forgotten memories like a veil seeped into him once again, and a little voice told him that someone like her would never want to be with a freak like him. That he was going to be alone. The thought angered him, and his ire tainted how he saw Gerlinde. Rather than admire her beauty, he found himself resenting it and how far beyond him it was. Rather than appreciate her revealing clothes – which he fleetingly thought to himself was one swipe of a claw or blade from a malfunction that would leave her even more exposed – he thought them lewd and inappropriate. [I]Harlot,[/I] he thought to himself, and he was shocked at just how much venom there was in his inner voice when he thought it.
But even so, it was the third and last reaction that shocked him the most, as the residual sadness that had assailed him upon entering the Dream spread like a haze across these other fleeting thoughts and feelings, and filled him with... shame. Guilt. Self-hatred. Disgust. Looking at Gerlinde's young, impossibly perfect face, Torquil felt an intense sense of remorse weigh him down for reasons he did not understand. He wanted her, but she also terrified him... and he did not even understand why.

Gerlinde herself seemed momentarily distracted from both Farren's awkward greeting and introduction, Ophelia's gawking or Torquil's musing, her attention drawn skyward as the sky was wreathed in dark clouds and it began raining warm blood. She stared up at the changing light and colors with eyes that were wide – almost too wide – with utmost fascination, and her mouth agape with amazement with what she was seeing.
It was only when Ophelia suddenly approached her that Gerlinde's attention returned to the ground, and her eyes fell on Ophelia moving to hug her. For a split-second something like intense fear and disgust flashed across Gerlinde's face, her entire body flinching protectively – pulling away a little, moving her arms in front of the body, her face turning away – as if expecting an attack. But all of this lasted only that long, before the brightness and glee returned to her eyes, her smile grew wider than ever, and she happily embraced the woman she had never met before, Holy Moonlight Sword and all. She seemed quite content to hug for the couple of seconds Ophelia intended, but once they had elapsed and Ophelia made the slightest move to separate, Gerlinde broke the hug as well... in a way that seemed a little hurried and relieved.

“Nice, right? I made it myself,” Gerlinde giggled, taking a step back, throwing her arms wide and doing a quick spin in place to show herself off. “I... Oh, there is [I]so much[/I] I want to talk about! So much I want to show you! I've been alone here for a week – or, well, alone besides Dollie and Shoppie – and... No, I'm getting ahead of myself.” Her eyes widened again. “I wondered why the sky was different when I got here tonight, and then it changed again when you got here. You're weird. I like weird! Oh, this is so exciting!”
With a beckoning gesture, Gerlinde turned around and started walking up the stairs. “Let's head inside before we're drenched, though. I know we'll be clean and dry as soon as we leave the Dream, but it's still uncomfortable while we're here.”