with a reverence unimpaired

Parts of it certainly might, yup. The tulmhainar agrees with a nod. When folks say that a place seems to have a magic of its own, where waters run crystal clear all year long, where the harvests always seem to yield more than you need...those are usually the signs of a tulmhainar burial. For a long moment, the tulmhainar just regards her. Her tenseness, the clear skepticism on her face, the way she has refused his drink, held her arms, and watched him as if he might grow spikes to impale her at any moment. So as she tentatively agrees despite all of her worries with the caveat she not forget anything, she damn near almost breaks the tulmhainar's heart. With a surprised peel of laughter, the tulmhainar shakes his head, stretching out a hand for Amalia to take. Forget? Ohhhh I see. Leaning back with another laugh, he shakes his head gently. I don't eat the way you all eat. In talking about the past you are sharing your memories with me. It's those that I eat, not the original ones. I mean, I'd take the originals too, but most folks don't really want to give up their happy times. I take sad ones and bad ones on occasion, but as you can imagine they don't leave me feeling too good.