Annabelle notices the Psiionic at the edge of the lake. She was actually heading there for the sake of exploration, and maybe in some small part she isn't exactly wholly willing to acknowledge, to clear her head and find some peace. Even if personally spared and pretty removed from everyone at the carnival by virtue of being so new, she can't help but feel a tense feeling of unease in the back of her mind after all that's happened, even after the rescues.

She stands there, for a moment, then smoothes her long skirt as she walks towards him, trudging with unnecessary force forward. She sits right beside him wordlessly, pretzel legged and flopping her hands into her lap, and she stares at the lake with an unintentional squint as she watches the light catching the surface. She knows that the Psiionic was gone—she didn't at first, but she'd eventually caught wind.

She looks to him, her hair blowing in her face. Still, she says nothing, studying his current state.