[Kuja's interest is piqued.] Ah, perhaps we are. What do you know of death's bitterness, then?

The Gardens? Such a simple name. It has no other? Is this all there is to it--grasses and trees, a pastoral air? [She can glimpse the ruins in the distance, but they seem to be nothing more than ruins.] Are we meant to rest curled among the flowers?

Tell me what you have learned, in your days here. [She does not return the pleasantry, simply as if she hadn't noticed it.]