[Reynir gives Carlisle's hand a tug, and the clergyman follows along, in awe the whole way. The way the ground shifts beneath them, wind he's so sure he can feel as it rolls along the hills, the sounds of the sheep bleating in the far distance -- it may not be real, but if he closes his eyes, it certainly feels that way. He's lost in it all until Reynir addresses him, bringing Carlisle to his senses.]

Wha- oh. Oh yes, it's- sorry. Sorry sorry sorry, I- I don't know what came over me.

[He smiles a bit sheepishly as he continues to stare, finally releasing Reynir's hand and pulling off his glasses, pawing at his eyes with his palm. When he does sit, it's less because he was offered a spot, and more because his legs just seem to give out. He finds his voice again after a moment, his earnestness showing more than he'd like, but given Reynir is the one who brought him to this place -- and put up with him on the journey over -- he feels it necessary to be truthful.]

I'm not... used to this. In dreams. To see things so bright, and so much like home.