She does not expect him - she never does, and as such he is always a bright surprise, the crimson-stroked boy who weaves in and out of her life, never far from her thoughts and always near to her heart. If anyone is her friend, she sometimes thinks, it is Sacre... then she recalls that friends are a lacking commodity, and reigns in her enthusiasm to a reasonable glow. Still, it is hard for her to suppress the grin that follows her shock at his voice, the elated surprise that lights up her eyes as she turns to her name, ears lifting high at its sound on his lips.

She does not expect him, but is happy he is here, a happiness lined with grey trepidation at the memory of their meeting that day in the Heart. So long ago, yet never resolved, her wrath and his confusion and the explosive small sun. She thinks on it and her bright grin falters, gold ear flicking back as she wonders if he is still mad- she's not, though the idea that her friend (that word, again. What does it mean? Is it even the right one?) should so loather her mother leaves an uneasy coil in the base of her heart.

But her hesitancy cannot last in the face of Natraj's joy, and bright curiosity at the small orange fox. Unnoticed before, the girl turns down at her brother's short yip, widening her gaze at the sight of the one-tailed companion who lingers at Sacre's side. She does not remember the boy having a companion, not even when they met in the caves, and the newly born fox breaks through her defenses, ushering out a gentle smile from behind the turbulent gold-slashed mask. "Don't frighten him, Raj," the girl suggests, a rarely-heard laugh in frantic pursuit. The kitsune's tails drop to half-mast, incapable in his current state to completely fall (and perhaps a bit proud of how many he has). He has never met another fox, another like him- he yaps again, a sharp, warm greeting, sniffing at the kit that will soon double his size.

Tandavi looks back to the boy, black eyes wide with childlike wonder. "He's beautiful, Sacre!" she murmurs low. "Where- how did you find him? What's his name? Did you save him from the Dark?" The questions pepper the air without a pause; more than she would ever say on a normal day, they bubble out in an alto hum as her eyes, unafraid, search his brilliant, bluebell gaze. She draws back up, braids falling in her eyes, and as she recalls his early question a cloud falls on her once more. She frowns slightly, her flaming fervor growing dim. "We came to find the Sun," she tells him quietly. "To ask his help in saving Lace."

Her eyes dart away, then return to him, sudden hope rising in her chest. Will he help her? He is strong, and brave, and if not her friend than certainly Lace's. And he has magic- she can smell it on him, though she knows not what it is, only that it tickles her nose in a black pepper way, and glows a dark maroon.

@[Sacre]