Beautiful, intense jewels pin him fiercely where he stands, and Cera gives a tiny lilt of a smile because he knows. Somehow, he knows she feels tied down by his worry, because she is not the kind to hide her emotions. Roskuld had no bars, no ties, no barriers that she could not overcome with her sheer, stubborn will. Despite her griping over his worried mother-hen attitude, Cera could not bring himself to stop. It was all he knew, now. With Midas, Ranjiri, and Hototo gone, miles away from him, Cera had nobody to love or take care of. Just when he had been going insane, lonely and with nobody to talk to, Roskuld had been deposited directly into his lap. Or, perhaps the better wording was that she had been deposited directly upon his borders. Maybe he did not change her life as much as she did his, but he was magnificent at counting and clutching his blessings. Even when she moved on and left their bloody-sanded abode, her memory would remain, an after-image that would keep him company until the day his family was returned to him.

Surely enough, as he lands with a soft thud upon the particles below, he can see the exasperated amusement in her features. Before she speaks, a soft lilting voice caresses his ears like the loving croon of a dove, reminding him how he had spoken her name. Turning his cranium back towards her, emerald diamonds went wide in surprise when he realized that he had to look down upon her sweet face for the first time. If there was a truer testament to how much he had grown, Cera did not know it. In their presence, the tremors subside, the depression is pushed away, and soon the glow of the embers inside are being fanned by their familiar faces, and he is glowing anew. "You seem to have shrunk, Miss Onni!" he chuckled, voice noticeably deeper from his chipper, boyish voice the last time he had laid eyes upon her homely features. Together they move, and they touch one another easily, with a familiar knowledge that is more intimate than that of a normal kinship of the Throat. Onni had saved his life, as a babe, and because of it he had grown to know her deeply, and he loved her similarly. "It has been far too long. It warms my hear to see you, Miss Onni."

Withdrawing and straightening from the hunch he'd adopted in order to reach her slighter frame, Cera's ears swivel to Roskuld, to hear her deny her own health. Frowning, he watches her carefully, studying her, but careful this time not to show too much concern or pity. If anything, she is thrice the warrior he is, and her strength will last her endlessly. Her words coil on her tongue like a writhing snake, spat out with similar venom, though it seems even she does not know where it is directed. Cera decides not to take it the wrong way, and quietly listens until at last she shoves into his face, angrily stomping her hoof into the sand below. He is far taller than her, an extra year or so granting him that advantage, but he is respectful of the power he instinctively senses, and does not treat her like a child because of stature. After all, Kri was about her size, and Roskuld would likely get along fabulously with the chocolate titan. That, or they would destroy each other like two rabid cats testing out newly sharpened claws.

"I understand, Roskuld. It is time for you to move on, you don't have to explain yourself to me." Spoken with a calm smile, Ilaria chirrups over his shoulder in agreement at the youth. Her anger was wild, but it wasn't because of him, so he managed a soft response. "You don't have to know. People are here to help you, even if you don't want them. You have plenty of time to figure it out," he tried to comfort, though he was hesitant to be snapped at should he say the wrong thing.

Of course, something snapped in recognition, and Roskuld's attentions were swiftly pivoting towards Onni instead, proclaiming her knowledge that had apparently only just then settled. Cera sat back and watched, intrigued, but said nothing as the two maidens began to converse. Lyhty's anger at the disruption makes Cera smile fondly at him, though he doesn't want to attract the attention of the fierce little songbird. He'd likely get his eyes pecked out. Instead he would just appreciate the little spitfire from afar. Tuning back into the conversation he shifted his weight to a more comfortable stance, idly reaching his wing out to attempt to brush Onni's flight feathers. He was a creature of touch, ever since birth, and now that he finally had someone he loved and cared for deeply at his side, he didn't want to miss the chance.