All of her delicate fairness, her beauty, it fades as his eyes hold her in their gaze and she makes her remark of the death of the God that, as far as Rikyn had gathered from the speeches of the Spark and the Bear, had been her own. He takes in the savagery with which she speaks of the monster with acceptance, remembering too how nearly all those from the Rift had seemed haggard and worn, and how quickly they had turned on the creature which was supposed to be their Divine.

His smile does not falter, nor do his golden eyes waver away from her. He almost laughs as she apologizes for seeming vicious, having grown up in a land of ice which raised women like barbed spikes of ice and which made the enthralling water thrall seem a butterfly in comparison. That laughter fades into a face that is almost contemplative as her name falls from her lips, as she claims this was her land.

He can’t help but wonder if it was hers in the sense that she had lived here or that she had had some dominion over those who had. He supposed it didn’t matter, now – her kingdom was now smack dab in the middle of Helovia, and he hadn’t seen near enough of those from the other realm (wherever that magically crippled place may be) to stand much of a chance against the armies of the four lands that held stake here.

He could understand that feeling, too, to be important in your heart but nobody to the rest of the world. His mother had figuratively thrown her crown into the sea, ripping his own from atop his self righteous little head without his approval, which made his situation a little bit different – but still, he could sympathize.

"Rikyn," he states bluntly, not bothering to reply to her apology and hoping she’ll take it as acceptance (he had, after all, fought the beast, and even has a steady ache in his shoulder to speak for it), "I live up north, in the land of the God who brought this forest here."

He smiles, not wanting to hurt her feelings with the truth – but feeling its best to start tying up any delusions that this place is a kingdom of its own anymore, that it is a kingdom at all. All it is, now, is a big, crimson forest bordering the Threshold.

"Here being Helovia," he says, "what, uh, what land was it before?"

And how could he avoid going there, if the rest of their Gods let their people starve and suffer for their own gain as it seemed the Bear had.