we are one in the same
you take all of the pain away

She shies away, and Cera regrets that there was no abundance of land to have descended somewhere farther way where the tremors would have been less distressing. But there is little he can do, so he sucks in a breath and tries to let the guilt slide away from him. Much like a sponge, he is a conductor for such emotions, a martyr in his own right, but he tries not to continually be disappointed by Rasta's weakness. It only makes him frustrated, and less of a person. She doesn't deserve to be further set back in her efforts - however they've progressed or regressed in the long time between their last meeting - by his frustration. But he is lonely and desperate for companionship, and so he readily takes her into his heart, trying to shove aside the clinging negative aspects that came alongside solitude.

It is easier to forget when she eagerly reaches to meet him, smile curving her pale lips as they touched and bumped their maws together in familiar reunion. Cera laughed as her little whiskers tickled against his velveteen maw, scrunching his nose up at the peculiar sensation. Relaxing into her companionship, her easy company and aura. Ilaria peered over Cera's birdlike shoulder, noting the appearance of a new companion, and staring it down. She didn't like birds, but she suffered them if only because Fina had left a good impression on her as a cub. But it didn't mean that all companions were kind, nor matched their bonded's personas. It left her eternally distrustful, and Cera allowed her to stew in her wariness, focusing instead on Rasta for the moment.

A quiet frown overtook him at the mention of the invasion. He knew of it only from the herd meeting, but he hadn't heard from his father since it had happened. If the Falls had fallen into new leadership, why wouldn't Midas return to the Dragon's Throat? Or was he attempting to organize a rebellion? An overthrow? It hurt to imagine - that he would rather reclaim a dying land than return to his family in the desert. But this was about Rasta, not Cera and his issues - plentiful though they were in their own right. Ah but denial was an effective friend, and he kept it at his side almost constantly.

"I'm sorry," he murmured instead, sincerely regretting that she had been thrust from her position. "Are you remaining there? Perhaps you can reclaim it?" Cera couldn't imagine not having a task of some sort. He'd probably wither away into nothing, as useless in body as he sometimes felt in spirit. But he washed over that, spreading fake cheer over himself like cloying suckle honey. A flaw he wouldn't admit to owning. Instead he cringed away from the topic of himself, not wanting to admit that he was actually pretty awful all things considered. She didn't need that kind of weight on her, and for once he was grateful for her blindness, eyes flickering in the obnoxious tell-all habit he had as he lied through his teeth.

"I've been busy with crafting, we've made so much these past two seasons! It's really nice," he admitted, a smile crinkling in the corners of his eyes. Well, it wasn't a lie...Ilaria grunted unhappily from his shoulder, turning her eyes away from the raptor to stare accusingly at Cera. Cera happily ignored her, tuning out whatever words she had prepared to spear into his mind. He'd only properly answered half of the questions, but well...it was good enough, right?