Regardless of whether or not Miyu’s existence could be called ‘life’, her lifespan was significant. She had seen generations pass generations, cultures bloom and wither, inventions invented, shone, abused, forgotten.
History really did have a way of repeating itself, just like the stories had always said. Miyu could see how and why from her unique vantage point, but except for when it concerned Miss Alyssa’s descendants, it was not something she devoted much processing time to.
The girls with the golden glow had long since stopped being called Searrs, or being blonde. But there was always something of her mother in each daughter, and seeing the growth and evolution of Alyssa’s children was a joy in and of itself.
Too bad that once on Earl, both the bloodline and humanity at large evolved back to the idea that bathing was primarily a social activity, instead of a biologically vital one.