"I don't know, either. Yggdrasil usually drags me along for the ride, and... I don't really remember having any control over my dreams when I was human," Meja admits. Mostly, she remembers a lot of running in those dreams. A lot of sitting in the hospital and watching her mother waste away from what she knew later as Loki's curse.

She glances around for a moment before nodding, heading in the direction of the balcony. It's the long way to get around Andlang, but it's the most scenic, as well. The balcony itself is about thirty feet wide, built along one side of the white stone fortress. A column of light, tinted almost as an aurora, comes from the sky to rest against and through the fortress itself; the source is so high up that not even the gods know its exact path. The view from the balcony is of the rest of the compound, with smaller buildings of the same stone, and gardens with a running stream beside them, and great dark mountains in the distance. They aren't mountains at all, of course, but roots, for Andlang does not sit in a realm of its own. It sits directly on Yggdrasil herself.

"Welcome to Andlang. A very... empty Andlang. Very unusual," she chuckles. Without the bustle of Valkyrie, it almost seems to be a different place.