Lauralae barely notices any reaction from Dany; she is focussed on her egg, on her own confusion, on the twisting thoughts in her mind that the other woman is inspiring. It takes her a moment to look over again, to actually pay attention and attempt to listen to what the words are.

Hesitating, she squeezes the straps of her bag, pale skin going all the more white for it before she turns her attention back up to the woman at her side, taller and more regal in some ways. Lauralae is not cowed by her lack of height - she knows she can seem taller than she is.

"I was not lonely. I had the trees and my hunts. I lived." Almost eight decades of isolation. She had grown accustomed to her own mind. She struggles with her words, but - Dany has an egg. Dany has been kind. There is something there. "Perhaps. Perhaps waking from death three times is the sign I was waiting for."