Surprise, almost fearful, plays its way across the girl's face: she does not expect to be recognized, certainly not to hear herself tied to long-lost names. It brings painful recognition into bright black eyes, cloaks her with a sudden, bittersweet remembrance of halycon days lost in dim memory. "Yes," she answers, simply and slowly. We were there... until they all left us. She realizes that her attention has strayed from the rosy mare, drifted to a horizon only she can see, and with a quiet start she pulls it back, drawn by the soft voice and a claw upon her cannon. Dark eyes blink as she collects herself- asked our names, the brother says, and his sister's pale smile returns. "Tandavi." She gestures down. "And this is Natraj."

She wishes she were not so afraid, that whispers of her past did not fill her with fear, a quiet dismay she dare not quite face. Part of her wishes to embrace the Edge; she longs to be the child she was, to look at the moon beneath starlit nights with wonder rather than dread. Yet faced with the reality of those memories she quivers, uncertain, and loathes herself for it. How can she be strong for this stranger - her family - if she cannot find the strength to confront her own fears?

Thin lungs expand, and sink as she breathes deep. Fire dancer knows it does not matter what she fears; she is a part of a world now, far greater than herself.

Is this what it was like to be her aunt, Mirage?

Even as Resplendence agrees to come further into the Throat, the fire dancer hesitates, poised to turn yet not quite prepared. Something about the mare gives her pause; how hesitant the other is, how still yet tumultuous, more uncertain, perhaps, than Tandavi herself. Her dragon is another point of curiosity. Natraj has been watching the crimson beast, mimicking movement and raising large ears. As the girl puzzles the shadows which flicker away from the edge of gold eyes, the boy tells tales of tight lines and wary gaze, shifting and peering in his younger cohort. How do we help them? she wonders, at a loss.

Can't. Don't know what's wrong.

Well, that's her first obstacle to overcome.

Focusing on another draws from her distress; she can leave behind her own alarm, funnel her fear into being a champion. "I would like to learn," she says to the stranger, soft smile rubbing away lines from her face- sincerity bright in the dark alto tone, for curiosity is ever the girl's strongest trait. She lets herself turn at last, leading the way, inviting pursuit; long limbs move languidly toward the Oasis as she puzzles silently, eagerly, trying to solve the mystery of how to save this girl.