The Drifter shakes their head. It is a motion devoid of any real sadness or regret. There are no others like them here that they know of, and if there were...they would not know how best to accept such a thing. That complicated wealth of emotions, the moment they well up, are immediately put to the side. They are hardly important, now, are they?

A familiar face, now - pointed ears and dark skin and golden manes of hair. The Drifter's response is instantaneous: a warm glow of gratitude as they visualize two elves in particular. Practically identical, twins, and undoubtedly associated with a feeling of safe.