That something I’d said wounded her mostly slips right by me, though I do notice that her words trail off in a mostly female fashion (men don’t seem to be as emotional as these ladies). Any of that notice, any concern that flashes like fool’s gold along the bottom of a moonless river, is quickly stolen away by her cheerful remark that she enjoys adventure and the arrival of the Lord Deimos, and the subsequent conversation – allowing me not time to respond to her, much to my male interest’s chagrine.

It seems almost like the Lord wants to say something, but doesn’t – it’s a gesture I’ve seen men use among themselves and the womenfolk time and time again, a mark of the cost for chivalry, the semblance of strength which we wear to appear more bold and steadfast than we truly are. I can’t help but wonder what it was he wanted to say but didn’t as he looks down and away, or if he just has gas and I’m over thinking everything in my eagerness to appease the long term Lord of these lands.

Still, he smiles at me, and it’s warm in the way one doesn’t expect from a guy called the Reaper. It makes me wonder how much I’ve changed that I notice these nuances that make the immortal giants of my youth so much less… impressively wicked in my adulthood.

I return the gesture of the nod, finding that, while his kindness has diminished the aura of doom and devastation I held about him, I do like that he bothers to thank me with words and gesture. I miss what all he means with the emotional inflection, in fact I barely notice that he’s having a poignantly thoughtful moment at all. All I notice is that I’m being congratulated by a Lord I have admired most of my life, and I find that my ego swells five times its normally gargantuan size as I stand alongside Ming Yue.

"It’s no big deal," I reply, suave, as if there isn’t a little me inside my head, doing a hoorah head bump with whatever jilted and ignorant figure stands for my conscience.

I listen to Ming Yue describe the Rift with some measure of interest, having many questions myself about the unknown land that our Gods were, apparently, snatching bits of land from. Her portrait of the realm which she had come from was dismal, making me frown with dislike of the Bear, even as it lay dead in the shallows of a ruby lined pool.

As conversation turns to what skills she possesses and dreams she aspires to reach, I find that I am again smiling and smug at the mention of my name, neck arching gracefully and lips curving into a handsome smirk of self absorbed delight.

"There are lots of things to do," I say, barging ahead without a thought as to whether or not I’m stepping on the Reaper’s hooves in my eagerness to be further complemented by my company, tail curling about behind my ankles in delight (hovering high above where Ming Yue’s magical water might tread), "I didn’t get to ask you along the way here if you had any particular talents."