Eventide is softly casting o'er the earth a magic spell,

And a love-song, everlasting, on the night wind seems to swell.

So absorbed in her observations was she that it took more time than usual for the sound of approaching footsteps to register. Once they finally did, the walker was already close and the proximity of them managed to startle the fae, even though the voice of the caller was soft and achingly familiar. Twitching where she stood, the girl threw a hasty glance over the shoulder to see who it was that called her by name, and as the slender body, hampered by old injury and slowed by pain, turned to face her a smile broke out upon Erthë's lips.

"Maren!" she replied, delight coloring voice as well as face as misty eyes fell upon the tigress. She would have flared her wings and rushed down the steps to greet the lady, would have thrown herself around the neck of the Diviner and embraced her - as a friend, a kindred soul, a person close to the heart. Alas, though she ached to do all this the filly remained slow. Her soulful dash became a hasty shuffle, the flight down marble steps turned into something more akin to controlled tumbling... And though alabaster wings extended to envelop her mother's friend in a frosty embrace, they froze in a shocked ruffle as the meaning of continued speech dawned on her.

"You're not old" Erthë said, with a feeble laugh that couldn't hide the worry she felt. "Yes, it's me... but how come you can't see? Did something happen to your eyes?"

Suddenly aware that she stood with her wings unfurled the girl tucked them back against her sides, the exuberant greeting turned awkward, stiff and restrained - reduced to the offer of a velvet kiss by cherry blossom lips and an exchange of wintry breath as she extended the nose in greeting. All the white she peered at the striped mare, searching for signs of injury that might explain this condition. Erthë had been blinded herself once, her left eye reduced to something rotten and painful in the socket that wept pus and other foul things. Magic had restored sight for her, but it remained pallid and mercurial in color none the less, dark taint staining the veins that surrounded the orb.

"Are you in pain? Is there anything I can...?"

But what could she possibly do? She possessed no magic, could not deal out arcane blessings like lumps of sugar or even properly prescribe a herbal cure. It made her feel helpless, a sensation that was not altogether new yet still very uncomfortable for someone so bent on knowing everything.