Roland had never found it difficult to get along with a stranger, unless that stranger was determined to be difficult to get along with. Tangere was no exception; as she approached his side and made her introductions, the Thief relaxed in her company and soon enough turned to lighthearted banter. There seemed to be no harm in it, since she had blown in like a storm with witty remarks of her own. Yet she replied hastily to his teasing, as if eager to deny his accusations. Was she opposed to bathing? Had he said something wrong? His musings were cut off by the sound of her laughter, dismissing his earlier concerns, and he followed Tangere’s gaze out over the bubbling water as she spoke.

“It’s my preferred haunt,” he agreed with a bob of his head, watching the sunlight dancing over the frothing water. The springs whispered as they boiled; a sound much like the ebb and flow of wind, but more melodic. There was no hint of the howling and whistling that came from the northern gales, just the gentle hiss of bubbles rising to the surface. Roland had ventured there in the hopes of some peace to gather his thoughts, but he was not averse to the idea of meeting new faces or making new friends.

His ears swiveled to catch Tangere’s questions as he watched the water, somewhat hypnotized by its churning, rhythmic patterns, yet his mind quickly wandered to seek the answer to her inquiry. It hadn’t been long since Illynx had wondered the same, and so he replied after a moment with a simple, “two years.” His affairs with the Basin had begun in the exact place they stood now, and every now and then Roland still felt a pang of embarrassment when recalling how foolish he had been, to trespass herd territory without so much as an invitation.

If he thought about it, it didn’t feel like he’d spent two years under the shadow of mountains and a watery, northern sun. Yet in retrospect, his old life seemed to have passed centuries ago. He certainly had no shortage of memories to look back on. His childhood was just a blur of learning, playing, and fighting with the other orphan children in his herd, and he couldn’t help but lament the fact that he no longer felt so carefree. Now the weight of a war had settled upon his shoulders, along with betrayal, and a million lies that had sunk their hooks into his skin and, like anchors, ever drag him down to his demise.

Roland tilted his head, eyes roving over the shattered image of the sky that had settled across the surface of the springs, looking down to meet his own blue eyed reflection staring back at him. It wore a distasteful grimace. He smoothed it away with a deep breath, turning back to Tangere. “How about you? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around before.”