Själ

They had met, in the time before, back when the girl had been a princess seeking her mother's kingdom. She had been angry then, ready to take her place in an empire that was dwarfed by Psyche's promises, but she had never known its foundation. Even now, as she wandered amongst the trees, searching for something (salvation, maybe?) that she could not name, she did not know her mother. Had she ever? The DarkEmpress of Själ's short life had been cracked, broken, determined to pass on old grudges to her youngest daughter, but she had never stopped to consider whether Själ would want to carry that torch, or what would happen if the girl were to douse its flames.

She was not angry anymore, but she was alone. Once, she had found solace in her ability to wander freely, to go where she pleased with no repercussions. Guilt had plagued the girl at the relief that had been knowledge of Psyche's demise - no more would the princess have to search for a place carved for her by the crooked horn of her mother, never again would she feel required to live up to some impossible, unexplained standard - but it had been there nonetheless. She had been at peace, or something like it, with the knowledge that she would be able to make her own way, to find her own place. Now, though... now it was lonely, and boring, and pointless. Her wits had grown dull, her mind complacent, and she was quite sick of it.

The boy greeted her with a smile that was quickly and easily returned. "Erebos," she greeted him, tipping her head in acknowledgement. A hiss sounded from the darkness, raising one of the girl's eyebrows as she glanced into the shadows, searching for its source. The young stallion's comment on her griffin brought her golden eyes back to him. "Thank you. Her name is Ansgar." The griffin crooned a soft, distracted greeting as her slitted pupils examined their dark surroundings. She was not, perhaps, as standoffish as she might have been to a true stranger, for she sensed her bonded's pleasure at the appearance of the boy and responded accordingly. The hissing, though - that was something of interest to the cat-bird.

How had they been, the princess and her griffin? Well, she had left Helovia and returned after finding the alternative too dull for words. Even after stepping foot over the borders again, she had wandered with naught but boredom to accompany her, save her encounter with Zèklè. He had invited her to the Dragon's Throat, and she had meant to meet him there - but she had arrived to find it an island, and she no way to enter. She had not stayed for long. There was no reason for her to go where she would be unwanted. "I have been exploring Helovia," she responded smoothly, despite her inner disgust at the question. It was not a lie; she had been wandering all corners of the land. "How about you? I don't believe you had a companion either, last time we met - or if you did, I've forgotten." She could not see the creature, but it was an educated guess, nonetheless.

"Talk."
--Ansgar.--