Sympathy isn't exactly what she's looking for and she's sucking in a breath through gritted teeth, though any annoyance is quickly lost once again as she remembers who exactly she's talking to. Right, there's no reason to get upset with him when he knows exactly what she's had to deal with before.

"It was just the three of us for the longest time, myself and Edward having learned illusion spells in order to keep us going and support ourselves. It was... mostly fine and dandy. But then Keats... he got sick. With something that evidently couldn't be cured at the time. We still don't know what it was, exactly." She pauses for a moment as her zoroark is shifting to force his head under her hand, to scratch his ears while she keeps on.

"We thought maybe we could figure something out with necromancy, you know? We were... desperate, to put it mildly. It didn't work and we had come to realize that we also had grown a love for the art and I guess we held a bit of pettiness towards the sect we'd been involved in and became liches just to prove to them that we were stronger than them, smarter than them, than their stupid bullshit childish way of going about the art."