[L speaks softly, a note of apology in his own voice, because how could she know, and how could she help, at the end of the day?]

I've made a mistake. A bad one; I'm far from home.

[He repeats the words so as to instill the gravity inherent in them. Maybe it was unavoidable, or just foolish; he's bad at gauging it, now.]

I needed a place apart from my own dream. I would have lost my sanity if I'd gone on. My own omen made me wander.