Change comes upon them, and Gawen watches despairingly as the weather changes, as the sunlight fights against the snowbanks he had so loved for the past season. He isn't a fan so far of the warmer days and tempered nights; being born in the grip of autumn, this is Gawen's first approaching spring. Though its echoes are quiet, they are insistent, and the hawk objects to the way the world moves onward away from familiarity. But he doesn't know how to word these feelings, who to speak to about this existential stirring in his soul that has no place in a child as young as him. So instead he keeps quiet, trailing after Maude or the doctors, trying to find a place that doesn't exist to put himself away and make a home of. That realization will come later - that he doesn't belong, that he only has his mother and her wandering affections. That fathers are supposed to be claimed by blood, and not just a collection of a myriad of kindly souls who had taken pity on the boy.

But change, at least, is good in the sense that he has met Maude and Tilney. That he isn't necessarily a healer yet, but he doesn't care! He's learning, soaking up knowledge like a sponge. He doesn't have a photographic memory, but it's something close. Something feverish and dedicated, focused and intense. Where everything else is clumsy and too-big, too-bright about Gawen, this is where the tempered steel shines. Where the granite rings with comfortable, stony echoes in his soul. Where everything else is soft, this is where he is sharp, and it's why he hurries to Tilney's paternal voice as it booms across the land.

As much as he adores Maude, it is not she who captures his attention first, because Lyanna has arrived. Gawen gurgles a squeak of joy and hurries quietly over to the older pegasus, rubbing up against her like a pleased cat in greeting, nosing at the edge of her wing and staring adoringly at her with big blue eyes. He won't disrupt the meeting, no matter how small it is so far, but he smiles beatifically at her before sneaking around to where Maude has left a space for him at her side, her eyes calling him over. He is a little less nervous around her now, and is careful not to stumble as he always does lest he shove the poor girl over in his haste to accompany her.

Gawen tucks his wings respectfully to his sides, unsure if she'd allow their grazing, ticklish touch, and smiles a cheeky greeting. A private little joke that doesn't exist, a playful 'aren't we awesome' grin that he knows she'll understand. Blue eyes dance with light and excitement, and he turns to listen to Tilney attentively.