‘That they do,’ she says, her pale eyes meeting mine in a rush of molten metals and icy depths. It makes my heart beat fast, the blood in my body a little hotter. It makes Duir look at me with an exasperated look I will come to know well. Still, I let my gaze hold her until she breaks it, finding that the thrill rampaging through my systems lingers.

I don’t even laugh when her Remy runs off with Duir, his gait rather odd and moderately hilarious.

Excited to find Marembo as eager as he was to go play, the wobbly fawn bounds away with white dapples shining in the broken sunlight, his strangely loping companion not far, a playful bleat erupting from his lips as he leaps atop the mossy log; my breath tightens in my chest, my heart flutters wildly, because his little hooves slip and clamor across the bark for a moment. I, as much as he, worry that he’s going to fall (but maybe his is more fear he had almost died than my knowing that falling hurts). Thankfully, the bold fellow quickly rights himself, flashing his emerald and gold trimmed gaze my way in reassurance, and pride.

Again, that warm, honey feeling erupts in me, nearly oozes from my pores. It’s a weird way to feel standing next to a pretty stranger, with all your blood running through you like thunder.

The thunder eases into the static rumble in crackling clouds as our conversation returns to Marembo, her smiles easing into a look of surprise that is beautiful enough it could be genuine or feigned. I don’t take the time to wonder, merely slipping into her words, her story. A lot going on, she says, and I do take the time to wonder now if her goings on were of a pleasant nature or not. I certainly hope so, a pretty girl like her…

Duir snorts in the distance.

If only I knew how fitting such a sound was, all lost in my smiles as she grins and looks into my soul again. Where am I from? She wants to know. The answer to that is sometimes harder to give than you’d think. The first option to rise to mind, at least, matches the pine and snow smell that radiates from her shining skin; tucked in the tendrils of her mane are the homesick odors of the lake’s breezy castaways, and the sulfuric waters of the Springs. It makes my hammering heart do an odd belly flip of sorrow, of longing. My belly gnaws at itself in hunger for something that cannot be found in that memory.

Not anymore.

"I was born and raised in the Aurora Basin for over a year," I begin, glancing at her with my rogue’s devious grin (it covers the deeper things coursing through me, it hides my weakness from a Lady I’d seek to impress even on a bad day); I wonder if I should tell her who my mother is. I probably should, as she’s colored almost just like her. It would be awkward to find out Rexanna was my aunt or something some time down the road... "Born the first son to Ulrik the Engineer and Illynx the GildedBlade."

My smile is tarnished, the molten glow of my eyes grows less brilliant; it is only a split second, but even the young deer pauses from his game (trying to crawl into the side of the partially hollowed trunk) to glance over at the unicorn who had fed him bamboo leaves, and seemed so eager to press his thoughts into Duir’s own.

"They do not live there anymore," I continue, the shortest of pauses falling between those words and the last, and in the meantime, my smile has returned, bright as ever, "and neither do I. I live no where now, doing as I please."