She was rather likely to be the vagabond to take over the Falls. She still didn’t know where else to go, though really, without the promise of power and magic, the Falls didn’t call to her anymore. Not as much as the sea, anyway. If she was going to be vagabond somewhere, it would always be beside the ocean, the waves lapping at her feet. It was the only touch she loved rather than loathed. Perhaps one day her feet would return her to the Falls, but for now, the sight of it left too bitter a taste in her mouth. The wound was too raw for picking at scabs.

Kiada lets her come in, leading them along the spikes that Syrena is very certain to keep well away from. Why the spikes? She wonders, but does not ask aloud. Perhaps Kiada, with her position in the herd, would actually know why a herd as active and well presumably well-guarded as the Edge needed spikes. But she does not ask, because it’s not why she is here. Glass spikes would keep out a horse, but they would hardly stop Kaos or any of the other Gods. They would make little difference when it came to anything that mattered.

For a few moments too long, Syrena is silent, trying to figure out how to phrase her question. She doesn’t know though, and it’s clear she takes too long as Kiada fills the silence with information about not stepping on glass shards. Syrena nods, casting her eyes down to the ground and stepping with a bit more care now that she knows. Though it doesn’t deter her, at least.

Their path grows misty, and finally Syrena simply starts. Words are not her skill, but so far, that has not deterred Kiada from entertaining her. “I saw you,” she begins, her voice deadpan as always but there’s something slightly different to it now. It’s not an accusation, but a question, as she continues, “With Kaos. You offered to help him.” She looks to the girl (the closest thing Syrena has to a friend, perhaps, an ally) and there’s a slight cock to her head. “You seemed so sure…”

She trails off for a moment, the mist growing thicker as they go, and she finds the feeling of water surrounding her somewhat comforting. It is not the ocean, but with the sound of it in her ears from the shells in her mane, and the damp that clings to her coat, it is almost enough. The mist is just cool enough that her skin begins to turn colors, some sort of halfway transition partway between her usual gray and the vibrant cool colors that she would normally turn in water. It’s an odd effect, somber and appropriate to the way she feels right now.

“How are you so certain that he is worth pledging yourself to?” She finally says, hoping those are the right words. Or at least, that the question makes sense. She wants to know how Kiada knows so certainly that she should side with Kaos, that she should offer him help. How can she trust him, knowing how fickle and worthless their supposed protectors are?