Aisling was unaware of what dissident connotations her title would evoke, and remained blind the the contradiction she seemed to display. To her thinking she was more a trickster, an illusionist than worked more in light than in shadow; more mischievous than sinister. She was unsuited to be a warrior, both by her stature and a distaste for violence; she knew some of healing, but had never quite developed her mother's careful touch; she had no magic of might with which to build or create. She could hide, she could listen, she could find, and all for the herd's benefit and not her own, which left her conscience feather-light. 

The faerie mare was surprised to be met with an apology but at once smiled and gave a gentle shake of the head to dismiss the Songbird's fears. "Y've not distracted but delighted! I am taking the day to make myself better acquainted with the area." It was true, and spoken graciously, if anyone had been disturbed from their work, Aisling thought it must have been Lena. She had her own turn of sheepishness but it melted quickly to a warm, pleasurable ease as the mare remembered her name. In a new place with new people any marks of recognition were as warm a welcome as the pony could have wished for. "Aye, that it is!" Her curious gaze moved to the patches of herbs (some she thought she recognized as similar to ones her dam had worked with) and in the direction where the kitsune had dashed off with a gathered stash. Questions on healing in these parts, on songs, on the earthy mare, on a million other things vied for position as the first to fall from her lips but a second voice pulled at her attention. 

Stormcloud-eyes went wide and brimmed with childish delight at the sight of the white stag. Here was a figure of legend, a creature of the old tales, stepping quietly and calmly into the mundane reality of an everyday conversation with none of the weight of gravitas that Aisling would have thought the occasion warranted. This was not to say that the hart was not impressive--twice as big as any deer Aisling had ever seen and in a coat the stood out starkly against the surroundings. She had seen a great many astonishing and magical things since coming to Helovia, and they had taught her a little wisdom. Enough to know that not all her tales were true (and if they were, the magic in them might not be as simple or as idyllic as she had dreamed as a child) but that didn't stop Aisling from taking delight in them. If the stag was only a new friend to be met, that was delight enough in itself. “Pleased I am to meet you, Leif. I am Aisling” Her gazed flicked back to Lena and smiled, bright as sunlight, at the Time Mender's question and a peal of laughter rang out.  Did she sing? Enthusiasm was evident in the shake of her head that sent her hanging mane dancing merrily-not a denial but astonishment at the whims of serendipity. "That's like asking the Sun if it rises! I can play as well..." She twitched her left shoulder, letting the flute slide forward. Even with its dark wood, it sparkled with the Sun God's own magic. As she willed it, the flute gave a melodic little trill to demonstrate.