She can’t quite describe how pleased she is that someone knows her by name. Yes, they know she’s the Storyteller of the Falls and nothing more, but it was a start. It was more than she expected. She assumed no one knew the name of the Storyteller here – just that it wasn’t the Mountain That Knows anymore. Her pleasure almost turns into a grin. Almost. Certainly, her features soften just a bit, and she might even look vaguely welcoming.

“I am,” she says, confirming what the other mare already seems to know. Trying rather hard not to preen with delight at being known, even for something so small as her title. “Sure,” is her simple answer when the mare finishes her request. She steps aside, letting the pale, antlered mare into the Falls if she wished. Syrena is terrible with small talk, but she’s okay with gestures. It is not hard for her to offer a tour, or to step aside politely, or to show with her actions what she lacks in words and emotions.

“I’m rather new to the Wise One ranks, though. I am not sure there’s much I can offer that you may not already know. But I can certainly try.” Her all her faults, this too, is a strength (in some regards). She does not lie, and she does not bullshit. She won’t waste the mare’s time pretending to know more than she does. Though sometimes, she probably ought to lie. It’s not like she didn’t know how to twist words, didn’t know how to weave a pretty tale to lure you in. It’s what she did in her life before Helovia, it’s how she survived. It just seems so pointless now when the lie serves no end.

“May I ask your name? And did you have a particular topic in mind?” She asks, nodding her head and leading the pretty little mare and her companion into the ice and snow laden herd. It was rather barren in Frostfall – the leaves shed from the trees, replaced by icicles. Some of the smaller ponds have frozen over, though the rivers and the ponds beneath the waterfalls still churn with the power of the herd’s namesake. She is thankful for the ever present water in this kingdom, but she is not thankful for the cold. Still, despite the quiet and desolate nature of Frostfall here, there is something lovely about the Earth God’s land even now. She has come to appreciate it in a way that surprises her some days, honestly. She has come to appreciate a lot of things lately though, and that too surprises her.

Maybe she can change.



les words "chat chat"

Syrena

let the water take me