There's a moment where the memory stutters, freezing in place, the landscape jolting very slightly - and then there are two of Orpheus, one looking at the woman in armor and the other still staring straight ahead, singing to himself.

"Wait, I'm coming with you
Wait for me, I'm coming too
I'm coming too"

Blinking, the first one takes a moment to get his bearings, glancing around at his surroundings, then at the woman, then at his memory-self, before answering. "Oh, um. I'm looking for my wife. Or, I was looking for my wife, back when this happened. I guess the Winter Mournings have a lot more power than I thought?"

Ultimately he seems fairly unfazed by being hurled back into his own memories, though. After nearly a year in Deerington and a few months in Trench, this seems like fairly standard fare. He's about to say something else, only to be interrupted when a low, piercing growl cuts through the gloom. With no moon or stars to see by it's hard to make out, but a dark shape the size of a large draft horse looms just at the edge of vision, and memory-Orpheus and present-Orpheus both stop in their tracks, squinting into the darkness.