The dragon made its displeasure known in no uncertain terms, as miniature plumes of smoke curled from its nostrils. Tension coiled through me, but prepared to run I held my ground. What sort of fool ran from a creature like Evangeline? I had, of course, but not again… Uncertainly I listened to her speak, my head buzzing unhappily. No – no, I had not expected to find her. I had not been looking – it was simply a mutual love of the deep forest which brought us together. I snorted, briefly irritated, though with myself or the mare or the circumstances, I could not be sure.

      “You may find fault with my inability to guess your every movement if you wish,” I said, a little bitterly. “I suppose I expected you to remain in the Edge. You have more claim to it than I do.” And I had been spending a great deal of my time away from that place, specifically because I wished to avoid her. Or perhaps… wish is not the correct word. Because I had no idea what to say, should I happen upon her… Because I felt… something. Guilt? I tired of that burden, especially. Why was I constantly in the wrong?

      “I was… thinking of you,” I told her anyway, carefully. My ears tilted back as I gazed around at the trees, feeling for a moment as if they had betrayed me, though they had no hearts and no minds with which to carry out such an act. Tallis moved from the mare’s back and I watched him uneasily, edging away as he landed in the trees above. How many years ago had I looked on him fondly? How long since he had settled on my back while we spoke to strangers? It felt a lifetime ago, as if I had been someone else then, and had foolishly left that man far behind. And who had he been? A doctor; a healer? A creature who cared for others? Who would never have harmed them...? But the truth of it was bitterly ironic; I had all but killed Roanne and fled, and left Evangeline to die.

      Perhaps it was her foolishness, if she trusted me not to hurt her, as well.

      She spoke of the dragon, and I blinked at him, wondering too what hardships he had endured, to mold him into such a feral beast. “Are you?” I wondered aloud, distantly. I did not particularly care if she regretted the act – most likely I had deserved it, though not through malice. “I am unharmed,” I added, with a brief shake of my mane – like a shrug. “Though I suppose you deserve an apology, as well…” A low, bitter sigh tore from my chest in answer to that. “I did not mean to offend you, though I realize now the words were poorly chosen. I… doubt any are happier to have lost you, however foolish they were. Nor was I… happier without you. Though I suppose that hardly matters, hm?” What was I saying? I had little practice in apologies, especially those to anyone I cared about… mostly I ran off, when worst came to worst. But where had I left to run? I let my eyes settle, at last, on her face, as my ears twitched doubtfully above my own. “If you would like, I will leave the World’s Edge and you may reside there in peace. I… never meant to do you any harm, but I am afraid I am incapable of not doing harm… So long as I have been alive, I have always been doing some evil. If I regret it now, that does not change the nature of what I am.” Restless, I shook my head again and shifted. How much of me did she know, really? How much of all that had happened before, of why I had ever acted at all – had saved her, all those years ago, in the Tides?