She comes in a wave of budding flora, followed by a small, red reptile that makes Locket long for his own companion, and then he thinks of Ophelia and her silver dragon. Where are they now? He wonders, gazing at the speckled girl as she approaches him, ears perking as he watches her lips form words. "Ah, indeed I am searching for someone. The Forsaken and her silver reptile, it is they I search for, for it is part of a quest given to me by Father Earth himself." Locket stands tall, proud against the dull cavern he stands in.
The tiny red lizard perched between her ears glares irritably at him, yet he continues to smile, because the thing is so small, barely out of its shell. "A pleasure it is, Nayati. I am Locket, former Executioner of the Grey." The last words were said in dismay, as though he longed for the older days, back when he commanded an army of skilled mercenaries. It is strange how twisted fate had made his life, how it turned his world upside down, made him long for the older days.
He hears her words again, and shakes his head. "There's no need, I'm sure the mare I'm looking for isn't here with us now. She may be above ground—" He quiets down, pale lips dropping into a frown. He hoped to Gods that wasn't the case, that Ophelia was safe from the darkness. His spine tingles at these thoughts, cursing him to see her with her flesh hanging from her sides, eyes dull and horn broken. Stop. He commands himself, watching the images fade.
To put the images away, he begins to walk the perimeter of the cavern, turning back to her and motioning for her to join him. "Walk with me, Nayati." He invites her, smiling at the speckled girl. Assuming she was beside him now, or close to him, he asks her something. "Tell me, where did you get Rathunax?" He finds it a mere gesture of interest, a friendly question that could spark an interesting story.
"talk talk talk"
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