[Fayura lapses into silence for a long, long moment—long enough to think she may have abandoned the conversation except for the web of minds still connected. Finally, she speaks again.]

I, too, am sorry for these same things. Sometimes, I think...

[Though she keeps her mind tightly locked, remorse flavors the psychic link between them.]

Well. Draega has had many opportunities to start fresh, and now her people are screaming like toddlers because an outside force is dragging them toward something better. They are the children who know that this direction is best for them but are mad they didn't choose it first.