Anathema laces her fingers together; moreso to keep her hands to herself and resist the urge to reach out and keep fussing over Sal, at least for just this minute, while she's already working on the band-aid. She bites her lip. Just drinking up the reassuring sight of her; the relief at the fact that she's back, here, to sit with her in the kitchen and fill in the blanks.

And that the blanks hadn't lasted all that long, all things considered.

"Perhaps surprisingly, it's been a pretty quiet couple weeks? I mean, Adam accidentally opened a cursed box and set loose an infestation of magical spiders in the shop, but— that was more benign irritation than world-destroying drama, so I don't really consider it a disaster. Darth Nox opened his museum, you'll probably want to go check that out. I saw some of your—"

A swallow. An uncharacteristic tremble in her voice, a clenching of her throat.

"I saw some of your memories. And I don't really remember how else I filled up the days. It really sucked, Sal." Anathema had been trying to stay crisp, businesslike, warm and capable, but it falls apart a little now. "I really missed you. I was afraid I'd lost you."