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They weren’t alone long – but the boy knew the game well, understood its strategies and wiles, its cunning and bravado, had played the part several times over (some more successful than others). He proffered a smile to the boy, full of mischief, full of devilry, full of a devout contentment, an ease, a composure well suited to cats who ate canaries. He scarcely recognized the figure, perhaps a foal from their void seasons ago (at a meeting, by the sides of adults, fresh and new, wide-eyed and imagining a world of possibilities before everything came crashing down), too gangly now to be truly identified. His name came quickly thereafter on introductions, on policies and politeness, Rein (how many empires would he collapse, how many kingdoms would he fell, how many times would he live up to his name?) and the little fiend’s grin grew, embellished and silly, jovial and exuberant to cavort in another diversion and distraction. “Of course.” Then he winked to both of them, the woman with her cloth, the child with his gold. But his eyes fastened immediately upon the fawn, the spotted femme, upon the eye that should’ve blinked back at him instead of bearing a weapon, still smiling, still smirking, still genial, warm, and kind, as her queries flowed through the undergrowth. “Oh, there’s always something lurking.” The prince shrugged, as if there were no frightening aspects to the words; he’d been growing in skill, in stature, in strength, and should anything manage to traipse its way through the hollowed, hallowed sanction, he’d gladly proffer his talents into the fray. “But you needn’t worry with us on the prowl,” he laughed, smiling back at Rein, and then his ears folded back to her and the series of questions pulsing through the copse.
They were customary, pieces of the puzzle foreigners always yearned to comprehend and understand. The notions and sentiments were reasonable, logical, and rational – what was this land they’d managed to wander within, what hells could they possibly face, what demons and monsters crawled between rock and shadow, what wonderful creatures would they be fated to meet? “You’re in Helovia, Eahaela,” he tested her name on his tongue, full of intricate phrasing and vowels, but ended on the same grin, hoping he hadn’t butchered the elegance, the finesse, entirely. The scion glanced along the horizon, over the edges of tall pines and towering oaks, ignoring Orsino’s subtle hisses and growls layered along their bond, attempting to navigate the massive query of ‘where was here’. “It has four kingdoms in all: the Aurora Basin, the Dragon’s Throat, the World’s Edge, and the Hidden Falls. It also has many open, wild lands.” What would strike her curiosity, her fancy, more – the inclination of a sovereign, an empire, or the wilderness, spread out and savage, untamed and barbaric? At her final question, however, he deigned not to answer – uncertain and unsure as to what or where Rein had been, what he intended, or where his loyalties lay anymore.
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