Any sane person. But her mind is full of holes, full of the unknown and depths where wounds lay and the Urge flits about, poisoning the dream well from wherever its sharp edged hands fall. It is a murky concoction all tinged in red, refusing attempts to clearly define itself. It has been open to all manner of decisions that someone sensible would reject, and they have taken her to curious places.

It's so simple. It always is. To say no and always wonder what might have been, or to say yes and find out.

"I'm sure."