It was strange to think about how much had changed since their very first interaction. When she had magically been pushed to the ground from a force that wasn’t wind. She still wasn’t entirely sure that Ru’in had done it, but part of her liked to think that he had. If it weren’t for her anger, roaming into the woods of the Basin that one day, she might not have stumbled across what she and the tusked boy had. Whatever it was they had, that is. She didn’t know what to call it, but she liked it. She found herself always coming back to him, a moth to the flame in a far different need than she felt with her brother.

But time constantly changed, and it had the tendency to change people as well. So when she stopped pawing and lifted her head to fully look upon his handsome spotted face, the creases around her eyes softened as he began to speak. Ivory tipped ears perked toward him, listening and following along despite the way his voice rang out, muffled by tusks that obviously would make saying anything difficult. And she admired him for being able to do so much despite how he was born. She wasn’t blind, she knew from looking at herself and her brother how different they were compared to Ru’in and Romina. And she knew the way people looked at Romina when they had ventured to the Threshold. They were different, and Kiada imagined that it had to make things difficult after awhile.

When he said that the Basin had told Ru’in that he was too young, Kiada snorted and shook her head. Her white forelock flicking over her left eye as she paused in her attempts at clearing out some underbrush. “That’s ridiculous.” She began, shrugging her slightly bruised and scarred shoulder. For some reason, the idea that she could learn to be a healer and Ru’in didn’t get the opportunity to do anything related to the healers was beginning to boil in her chest. Snakes made of flames sprouted briefly along her spine before being replaced by the griffins and foxes once more as she reigned in her anger. “They’ll let children wander to the Threshold to recruit, but you can’t be a crafter?” It was more of a rhetorical question that escaped her lips. Her gaze dropping from his direction toward the earth.

Khairi, meanwhile, had managed to land on a rather high branch of one of the trees, where one of the branches dangled precariously on the other side of the group. It was obviously dead, blocking light, and stealing nutrients from the tree it partially remained on, so he decided to spend some time using his sharp beak and talons to do his best to break off the branch. When he couldn’t get it fully to break off, he began to whine quietly through his and Kiada’s bond.

“How have you been?” She offered him a small shrug while pushing out Khairi for the time being. “I could be better, I suppose. Living in the Edge hasn’t been great, especially finding out you apparently have a billion siblings. Aside from that, there was a foal games that my father and Vesper and Virga’s father put together.” She paused, hoping that Ru’in would know who those starry children were, seeing as they lived in the Basin for a short time. “Turns out some griffin family decided we’d make great meals, and dove in on us.” She added in, motioning toward the scabbed wound that was turning into a scar residing on her chest. “I got bit here, so that was… fun?” A small sigh escaped her lips at the memory.

But then, as if she figured that she had spoken enough words for herself, she stepped toward Ru’in. She aimed to step close to him, not quite as she had in the woods that one day, but close enough to peek up at him from behind white lashes. “But, despite that, I wish the Basin would have given you a chance. You make beautiful things, they don’t know what they’re missing out on." She added, before pausing for a small moment of time. "And maybe one of these days I’ll be able to help you get one to work.” She finally offered him a gentle smile before Khairi had begun squawking into her mind. She moved from him, then, toward the branch as it dangled while Khairi hopped on it aimlessly. “Sawa, sawa, mimi itabidi kupata.” She called up to the vulture in their shared language, rearing up onto her hind legs and striking at the branch twice before it fell.

Then, her attention returned to Ru’in, just as it always did.


"Talk."

---

Sawa, sawa, mimi itabidi kaputa. - okay, okay, I’ll get it.

— she wears fire for skin,

but a storm lives in her soul.