Quilyan

He remembers the first days of wandering after the fall of the Monarchy. They were long days with longer nights, filled with terror and grief and anger. He hid it, of course, but then, he'd had to; Monarchists had been hunted then, with the streets overridden with anarchy, and he, the crown Prince, had been the new government's most wanted. Of course, the Anarchists were little more than a group of rebels determined to rule themselves, and they had been so unorganized that the likelihood of being followed, much less found, was very small. But he remembered the fires, the angry din of the mob crushing against the palace walls, and he dared not chance revealing his true identity.

Even here, in this land so very far away from Th'orqui, he can't remember ever speaking of who he had been, once. He has talked of the land - he remembers telling a mare named Rowan of the gods' trees with their luminescent colors. He hasn't seen Rowan but for that one time, and he hopes that she has survived the darkness and the evil that has pervaded Helovia for the last several seasons. Perhaps he should ask Resplendence - after all, she had been friends with Rowan. The thought of his beloved brings a smile to his face. She has been thriving in the World's Edge, building and maintaining a garden of herbs to remedy those who fall ill. She is selfless and brave (though she would argue the latter) and he adores her for bringing out the best of him. He appreciates her for making him into a good person, the kind of person he never could have been as Prince.

Zarina chitters softly from his back before scampering with practiced ease along his nape to perch atop his poll. Someone in the trees, she says in mind-speech that is entirely matter-of-fact. The pygmy marmoset is not the sweetest of creatures and often finds herself taken in by jealousy. Of course, it isn't that she is jealous, for she is well-accustomed to sharing her darling bonded with the mare Resplendence - no, Zarina is the voice of Resplendence's nonexistent jealousy, often interfering in most unfortunate ways when she feels that Quilyan's flirting is over-the-top. And, since old habits die hard, that is quite often. The fact that this new creature in the forest is a female is not lost on the creature, and the deposed prince feels her begin to sour. Ignoring her, his friendly voice rings out through the trees: "Good day, Mistress!"

"Talk talk talk."