Själ

Exploring, of course, had been a kind way to put it; in truth, she had been wandering aimlessly with no real purpose or goal in mind. She would never admit it, particularly not to someone who was little more than a childhood acquaintance (how could they be friends when she had never stayed long enough for it to mean anything?), but she was desperate for any motive, any reason, any purpose at all that would direct her. There was a saying that when one door closed, another would open, but she was in the midst of a jungle. There were no paths, no doors, no indicators to show her where she should be going; there was only her, only a unicorn princess and her griffin, alone and lost and trapped in their own misguided intentions.

But that was her problem, and she was not quite ready to share the burden of it. She put on her mask, smiling prettily as Erebos confided his new rank. "It's a suitable rank for you," she said. As the girl looked him over, she realized that it was true: he was not a young colt anymore, but a stallion grown, and ready to take on the world. There were muscles now that had not been there before, and even his horn seemed to have grown sharper. Suddenly the princess realized that Erebos was not just a random half-stranger - he was a handsome half-stranger, and she was, no doubt, going to be making an absolute fool of herself. "You've grown very strong already." Was that too much to say? Too flirtatious, maybe, even if she had offered it as a passing comment without thinking of the hidden meaning that might lie dormant within it?

The topic shifted, leaving the girl a moment to collect herself. She peered curiously at the kitsune, who Erebos had unceremoniously shoved into the light. Though his manners seemed to be horrendous (he was hissing at her as though she were the one who had disturbed him - what an awful little thing!), he was the sort of companion that one might consider to be of the 'cute and fluffy' variety. Still, Själ decided that she preferred her griffin's company over Orsino's foul temper. After all, Ansgar had never so much as offered a glare at her. At the moment, however, the griffin was screeching angrily at the kitsune, her feathers fluffing to display her irritation. A gentle touch from the mind of her bonded coerced her to silence, though she remained crouched by Själ's hooves, her feathers fluffed and her tail lashing.

"You've grown," the stallion offered, and the girl found herself peering at him from beneath her lashes. He was right; there had been a great deal of growth, between the pair of them, since the last time they had met. But there almost seemed to be something else there, some reference to something unseen. "I have," she agreed, for there was no point in pretending otherwise. "So have you." She paused, considering him. "I have traveled beyond the borders of Helovia, and yet I am always drawn to return. Why?" She hardly expected an answer - after all, what is one supposed to say to something like that?

"Talk."
--Ansgar.--