The scent of the ocean. The girl inhaled deeply. She didn't usually pay attention to it, the smell was so ingrained in her fur now that it was with her wherever she went. But truth be told, she loved it as much as Mauja. Her own personal slice of heaven was on the far side of the Edge, a little opening in a copse of trees where she left her basket when she didn't have it with her. The little scorpion creature that Ulrik had made her was there as well, resting for the day. The space was small, but it had an open side facing the cliffs where the water splashed against the bottom of the rocks and became a symphony of sound. Best of all, it was close to the garden of Resplendence- her best friend. Really, Kahlua was lucky to have such a friend. Res watched over her even when the girl did not watch over herself. But where was Resplendence now?

With time, perhaps the girl would grow on her own, would learn to think before she acted, would learn to ask questions and actually wait for the answers. Maybe she would become a philosopher, sit beneath a tree, listen to the wind, find questions to ask that she knew there was no answer to, and then not be bothered by it at all- just be happy there was a question to find. Perhaps someday she would actually fit on Mirage's counsel, instead of being the outcast child that was thrown into the job for necessity but not for want. And then she would know the secrets of the Edge and the politics that they held. But she did not. Because she was Kahlua.

But fancy dreams don't make reality and the girl bounced like the fool that she was until she was stopped. And a lucky thing it was that the stallion told her to wait three times. It took until the final one to get her completely halted and turning around to face him. But when she did finally stop, when she did finally catch sight of the look on his face, she found something that she didn't understand at all. A look she had no right seeing, much less trying to figure out what it meant. Or perhaps it was nothing at all. Mauja was a stone.

Did you know Torasin? The girl turned the name over in her head several times, chewing on it, mulling over it, letting it settle in her brain. But nowhere in her shallow memory banks could the name be found. And if there were two things the girl was good at it was crafting and remembering names. “I know Paladin,” she offered finally. Torasin, Paladin. The end sounded the same. But even knowing Paladin was a stretch. She had spoken to him once, seen him in passing from time to time. “I'm sure I'd know him if he was still here but... maybe we can find you somebody that does know him. Is he a friend?” Or was Torasin a her? Oh well, too late now. She looked hopeful. She was trying.

OOC| My apologies for the introspective weirdness. I was watching The Shawshank Redemption... :D