I have no trouble with the living. No interest to go against them. ( She will not have to extend them a similar truce, if they are not part of the war.

But then, that moment is distant, hypothetical. A part of her, sitting straighter and more rigid in place, has finished considering it. )

Now. We are friends. We have spoken at length, as friends do. But I tire for the day. ( And so, she dismisses them, elegantly. )