Ilde attends, albeit briefly, out of respect for someone she'd known in fleeting but oddly intense ways; the first fog expedition had been a hell of an experience to share, and she remembers Nazca by the water when during the Candlelighters' animal invasion, remembers walking by the house-boat in Raven's Gate most days. The peculiar service feels strangely invasive, out of step with the woman she recalls, and she wonders if some attending aren't merely there to take advantage of a funeral offered when so many bodies may never be identified, let alone memorialized outside of some city worker's underbreath prayer over a mass cremation.

The thought leaves her cold, and she doesn't linger.