It was late and they were on the move again; Sacre had never been one to stand still for very long. He often thought that if he moved around frequently, travelling here and there, then he might one day run into Roux and that opportunity was just too perfect to pass up. Inari followed him, his small red body bounding alongside him whilst Ríona lazily relaxed on his rear, a dainty dusty paw absently playing with the crimson arrow wedged into the fox boy’s tail. Everything was quiet and sedate until he noticed movement when approaching the western beach. Intrigued, Sacre altered his course.

He wasn’t following her per-say, they were just going the same way, right? The desire to be on the move again and out exploring had dragged Sacre away from the Worlds Edge, but it was curiosity in a familiar paint that drew him out further. He knew her, or well, of her. She was the Glazier from the herd meeting or one of them… He knew nothing really. Yet, they were herd mates all the same, so Sacre pretended it wasn’t weird at all to walk up to her as if they had always been friends and his usual great smile that lit up his mothers eyes in the light of the Lady Moon.

“Where?” he asked, bursting in on what might of been the mare’s own private conversation. Inari gazed from behind one furry, black foreleg whilst Ríona raised her head to investigate, one soft paw paused in mid-air, hovering over the red arrow. Sacre reeled himself back a moment, thinking as always after he had spoken, his expression changing into an apology "you don't have to answer that" he pursed his lips sheepishly. A few seconds more, the cogs in his brain clunking against each other as he wondered if he should say something more or just leave it there. Maybe a name? Yet, what if she didn't desire his company at all? 

Perhaps he should wait a moment to see whether he should slink back off into the night and stop randomly following horses on the beach. 

Not expecting to surprise her, the fox-boy jumped with the painted mare as she squeaked and Sacre laughed, now even more sheepish after causing her a fright. Ríona, who had been sat so neatly on his backend, was now sat up in the middle of his back with a disgruntled look colouring her face and her paws were spread out for balance. “Oaf” she muttered into his head and the Nurse grimaced. His mane was now even more tangled across his neck and strands of it caught on his ears even as they swivelled to listen to her answer his rather intrusive question. Her voice was nice as she spoke of a homeland and Sacre wondered what it must be like to come from somewhere else. Whilst he did live in the Basin and then the Throat, to some degree he could understand what it might be like to miss an old home. Yet, an entire land completely? Having always been in or around Helovia the fox-boy couldn’t imagine what it must feel like to live in a different realm entirely. “Does Helovia not yet feel like home?” he asked, gently and with curiosity, wondering if maybe her hesitation was because she wasn’t sure yet.

More came, her name was Anzanie, and he listened to the voices of foxes in his head as they tried to pronounce her name whilst their Nurse returned the introductions.

“I’m Sacre, this in Inari and Ríona” he nodded to each fox, one red and one dusty, before continuing, happy that she at least recognised him in someway. “Ah, I’m a Nurse in the Worlds Edge… You might have seen me during a meeting. You’re a crafter, right?” crafting he missed it sometimes. The way it felt to create something, something that he had made with his own ability and watch it be of use to others. There was something keenly satisfying about crafting, but in the end Sacre had decided there was more fulfilment in healing and that he had a duty to complete after his father’s disastrous turn as a murderer healer.

He fell silent then watching the mare, wondering if he was right in his memory and silently hoping he was, otherwise, he had no idea who he was remembering. Or who Anzanie was remembering for that matter.

His face, once so awash with endearing friendliness, now twisted into something more like sympathy. What did Anzanie feel? He wanted to know what had changed her mind. Perhaps it was something within the herd that was bothering her, but the fox-boy couldn’t possibly know without asking more. Yet, this time he hesitated. He didn’t want to be rude and inconsiderate of her feelings by just asking what he wanted, but if he left it without saying anything it might seem like he didn’t care. For a moment he thought, what would a Nurse do, he still felt like he didn’t understand much about the art of healing. That there must be much more to it than just patching up physical wounds. What about the mind? Could he heal Anzanie’s detachment from Helovia? Or maybe this was something only Anzanie could do. He didn’t know and it frustrated him. Just like it did with his father, a madman, a murderer and yet, saveable once if only someone had reached out to him. Maybe that was what he should do here or perhaps it was arrogant of him to think he could impact the Glazier in any way. So much confounded Sacre these days, but he went with what he thought was the best thing.

“You don’t have to say if you don’t want to” his voice was gentle as he smiled, watching her drooping head out of one corner of his eye “are there things you like about living here?” he asked instead, hoping that a positive question might fill her with more confidence. Part of him wanted to reach out and press the softness of his nose to her shoulder, he would have if he didn’t feel like she might disappear at any moment. His actions were tentative, controlled, but below that his heart wanted to reach out to understand this painted crafter more.

When she spoke of delight in meeting them and his skills, Sacre turned with a nervous smile  as he wished her words were true “I hope so, one day, but right now I know very little about healing, this is my first time trying…” he paused before continuing “I used to be a crafter, like yourself” though Anzanie was probably much better.

After that he began to warm to her, finding it sweetly amusing that she didn’t think anyone would know of her, despite being head Glazier. Perhaps Anzanie didn’t realise how important her own skills were to the Worlds Edge and maybe that was the beginning, a way of making Helovia more homely. “I think you are far more important to the Edge than I am” he laughed as she had turned her head and suddenly, embarrassed himself for a reason he couldn’t fathom, he swung his own head to the sandy floor, “I wouldn’t forget you” he shuffled his feet whilst watching the moons reflection on the water.

“What’s it like, crafting with glass?” he asked, his eyes flickering back and forth between the painted mare and the moonlit sea.

Often these days he felt… lacking? He hadn’t yet managed to connect to the members of the Worlds Edge, he didn’t know their struggles or their joys, what made the herd tick along. In the Throat it felt more like a family setting overseen by the iron will of the Wildfire, but Sacre struggled still to put his hoof on what made the Edge the Edge. Perhaps part of him, unknown to his conscience, was still uncomfortable living in a herd that had once held him captive… Yet, they hadn’t had they? He had been prisoner in the Worlds Edge yes, but those horses were entirely different, the situation was different and those who lived in the land of the moon were not those who had imprisoned him. Even more so, he had only been a Nurse for a season, only lived there for a season and already found familiar friends. His uncertainty about his new herd mates coloured his feelings as he waited for Anzanie’s answer, anxious that maybe in one word he might upset her, like he had Raeden on his first day as a member of the Worlds Edge. Since then, Sacre had almost been tip-toeing around his herd mates as if one wrong word would shatter the new life he was trying to build for himself.

The relief he felt fuelled his boyish smile when Anzanie proclaimed her love for their herd and its members, the beautiful ocean and the wish to have a family. Sacre could relate to the need for family, he had lost members of his own and was still searching for Roux, he hadn’t seen Nao or Raeru, and only recently learned of his half-brother Mesec. The last member of his family he had seen was the back of his father. Yet, there were those within Helovia he considered family even if they were not bound by blood and, now looking at Anzanie, he considered the paint family by just being apart of the same herd—kindred.

“The Worlds Edge is your family if nothing else, Anzanie” he replied softly, perhaps her despondence with Helovia lay in her lack of connection to it, or maybe it was something else entirely. Yet, Sacre hoped that perhaps she might see the Worlds Edge in a way that they were more than just members of the same herd. The fox-boy didn’t say anymore than that, however, as the topic had already changed back to that of his healing prowess, or lack of it, and he quickly turned his head away, embarrassed. Sacre? Intelligent? There were firsts for everything and that was the first time any had referred to him as such. The smile bubbled on his face as he warmed with the thrill of her compliment, thinking she was just being kind, but enjoying it nevertheless.

“You’re far too nice to me” he laughed in the end.

Though he couldn’t help but respond to her enthusiasm about crafting, he had enjoyed it for the time he had served in the role, if he had only done one thing he had still felt the adrenaline rush when using magic to create. “I served the Dragons Throat” he responded to her excitement “the crafting is done with metal” a more practical material than glass, but not nearly as pretty in Sacre's opinion. Anzanie, however, didn't appear to be done embarrassing him for the evening as his eyes grew wider whilst he stared back at her, noticing for the first time how pale the Glazier's own eyes were.

"I'm not going to win am I?" he questioned humorously, gaining a little of his composure back and snorting a laugh at her "let's agree to be equals, hm?" he offered with a glint in his gaze.

After that he listened to her description of crafting with glass and he nodded, feeling almost regretful that he gave up the profession. There was something unique, he felt, about the emotion one garnered from creating and making, something quite personal "ahhh" the happy nostalgia filled his voice "it must be a nice feeling to create something so delicate and strong at the same time" he softly murmured.

Ah, that kind of family. When Sacre thought about it, he too liked the idea of having a family, his own family, a scattering of mini versions of himself. If they all inherited his curious nature, Sacre was almost certain he’d hardly ever see them for they’d be out wandering the world, but that would only make him happy. It was that, the wandering, that had made Sacre who he was and helped him to meet so many others, others he would later call friends. Quickly he had been out of the clutches of his mad father, with death robbing him of his mother and Roux nowhere to be seen, the kindness of strangers was all the fox-boy had to rely on. He surrounded himself with a made up family of horses he met on the road and in herds, finding them just as reliable as those who were related to him by blood. Perhaps he had done all this in spite, in purposeful irony of his father, to make sure there was no opportunity for him to turn into the Nightshade. If he could turn into anyone, it would be Kou, his mother, he missed her gentle touch and her mother's wisdom. The cogs in his head turned as he thought about it and he wondered why Anzanie thought she would never have a family for Sacre was certain, with her beauty, she could have lines of stallions here on this beach if she wanted. Perhaps there was one whom she liked.

"Lies" he said, humorously, in response to her instance that he was in some way intelligent, if he had hands he would have put them over his ears. Mauja, the old scoundrel, was the only reason he was in the Edge and in the position he was now. Otherwise, he'd had been swayed by the allure of Nymeria back to the Falls. His lips pulled into a gentle grin, however, as he regarded the painted girl closely, his eyes trying to pierce into hers "you have a beautiful heart Anzanie. I am sure you will have a family of your own" how could she not, in the moonlit scenery and the sounds of the lapping ocean, even Sacre's heart was moved by her.

Their conversation encompassed many areas, all that allowed the fox-boy to know a little more about Anzanie and their shared love of creation. Sacre might not be a crafter anymore, but he had enjoyed it. Spurred by her question he opened up a little more about himself, thinking back to his time in the Dragons Throat with fondness, he had never really been attached to it, but he had been happy there for a time "hot" he laughed. So goddamn hot. "I enjoyed living there, I had a few friends, the sense of family was much greater, it seemed to me, than it is in the Edge" at least, from Sacre's own opinion, he had never known Gaucho more than a grunt here and there, but the Wildfire appeared to inspire close kinship within his herd. 

So, why did Sacre leave? 

For a moment, he didn't know how to explain it. It was convoluted and painful. Yet, he felt inspired to tell her, poor Anzanie, of the tragedy and demise of his family that spurred him away from the desert land. "During one of the Rift battles, my elder sister was killed" he began, his gaze looking out upon the moonlit sea, "my father was also there and, in despair, he left Helovia and I followed him" he frowned, almost like he was criticising his past self. "I didn't know what else to do, returning home didn't feel right, how can I go back to living normally when my sister wasn't even alive" that's how he had felt at the time. The brief period outside of Helovia had given Sacre time to think, to talk to his father for once and to understand the driving forces behind him. d'Artagnan had convinced Sacre that he had other family, that he had to protect, he had a twin brother who might need him one day.

"I returned back here not long after, but I couldn't bring myself to travel south, to explain to them why I left, to go over the tragedy again, but I also needed to find Roux, my twin brother" he paused, sheepishly grinning "Mauja convinced me to go back to the Edge with him in the Threshold" then he shrugged, it was a brief summary of his distressing tale, but he would answer her questions if she had any more. "So here I am, a Nurse serving the Moon, still looking for my missing brother and telling my sad tale to pretty mares on the beach" he laughed, his face twisting into one of apology. 

This time it was Anzanie's turn to lighten his heart and he laughed when she pushed at his shoulder, turning to gaze at her as she thanked him and Sacre shook his head. "You can come find me anytime, I can talk for hours if you want" he winked, feeling sure she probably wouldn't want him chattering on for hours on end, which he was quite capable of doing, if given the opportunity. 

The fox-boy liked her analogies around crafting, the mare really did seem to enjoy what she did and he thought about the differences between crafting and healing. He had no magic to heal as appose to his magic to craft "it felt almost miraculous, when I was crafting, to just create something with a God gifted power" his expression shifted into thought "though my lack of magic when it comes to healing makes me feel more helpless. Crafting was a lot less stressful, I can't watch horses spar anymore without thinking of all the injuries they might incur" he laughed.