As he explains, it feels as if she should have known. He was in her mind, but she was in his, too. Using her thoughts to change his meditation room to her gardens and to touch his face as gently as she had.

Nodding, she does as he says, closing her eyes to do so, at least in the beginning. Inhaling slowly, then exhaling with purpose, the bag resting on the ground rises with the measured thoughts she has. It's as if she's just instructing it to move on its on and then it did and before she can stop herself, she's back in the gardens and she's pulled him there with her.

No bags, no heaviness of any kind, though she knows she ought to still feel it as she's holding them, but he's there and she blinks at him.

"This isn't the ship."