Entranced by the colorful words, Hesperos' tale brought to mind landscapes she had traveled through not so long ago. White salt panes baking beneath a sun that beat down upon trespassers with a sledgehammer of heat, shimmering mirages that tricked the eyes during long walks across arid landscapes. An island like a dark blot upon the horizon, burning the eye even from a distance with the vivid red of its sand. To think that such landscapes could appear so similar even though they had to be far apart. The world was indeed a peculiar place.

"There are deserts here too, far south of here" she told him, as a dreamy look flitted across the opalescent visage. "I think it's too hot, but my uncle Badger lives there and he seems to like it."

A faint shrug marks her acceptance of this in her mind peculiar preference towards sweat, and she drops the subject. Hesperos too seem eager to move on, and she lets him, listening instead as questions pour from his lips. Questions, and doubt; lines crease her young brow and she wants to protest, object against the defeated way in which he declared himself incapable. What on earth made him think he couldn't do anything but fight? Had he tried? Had he worked hard on carving a new path, away from whatever it was that made him look so dejected?

To Erthë, learning was what made life interesting. She spent the better part of her days watching and listening - to nature, to conversations and instructions, to her own thoughts and feelings - and whenever she stumbled upon something new she couldn't wait to try it herself. Listening to someone who had stopped trying to learn made her strangely upset. The slender tail snapped sharply behind her lean rump and there was a sudden flash of strong emotion in her eyes, feelings that might have spilled over into word had the stallion not moved the topic onwards.

The questions he asked were interesting, however, and she did her best to swallow the ire before she embarrassed herself in front of Tembovu. Erthë might have been able to answer Hesperos at least partly; instead she turned to the elephant kind and left it to him to describe Helovia and its politics, keenly interested to learn more for herself. It was one thing to hear stray words from here and there, and another entirely to get a summary from someone so involved.

Erthë

the      night      is      calling      my      name