“Tang?” his familiar (notably gentler) voice comes through very clearly, her chocolate eyes flutter to find his body against the fern-green backdrop of willows and twisted old trunks. She beams with a smile smeared cheerily across her pink lips. She forgot that the Grove is one of his haunts, but is ever so pleased to see the Fates playing their games again. Her short tail splashes from hip to hip, her cloven feet dancing in a trot over to where he stands quietly among the trees. Late morning shadows dance at the ends of his copper body-beard, glinting in his jade eyes. She reaches out to touch lips, softly, so softly, nibbling playfully and pulling away before it starts to seem a little too intimate. She chuckles, a bubbling series of wind-chime chortles before speaking in her honey-thick lyrical tone, “It’s been a while, Alby, ” She looks briefly to the serpent that accompanies him always, just as Phrixus is with her (mostly…except for now), she squints at it affectionately though doesn’t expect any acknowledgement from it. Her eyes find Albrecht’s again, “How are you?” She crinkles the end of her rosy nose as if to indicate her dislike for such bland routines like “how are you?, “how are things?” – she readjusts her feet and smiles wider to him, “Better yet – are you staying out of trouble?” She looks around, to the sky, to the shadows between the trees and then back to the stallion whom she considers a very close pal.

An electricity webs across her skin, making it twitch and shudder, her tail flicking with the sudden spread of static. Her raven slides into view, descending from the cotton clouds streaked across the blue-ish sky. Gracefully landing on the peak of Tangere’s withers ruffling his long white feathers and looking side-ways at the stallion with his glass-blue eyes. “I found.” The bird’s language seeps into her thoughts, solid and concise. Her eyelids drop and her eyes roll to the edges of her sockets, as if she can set them completely backward to look upon the bird clutching to her marbled withers. She nods to him and says aloud, “Good.” “Thank you.” she tells him internally. The raven coos, purring and clicking as it stares at the stallion, leaving his hackles up.

She looks to Albrecht again, “You busy?” She mocks him a little, noticing the obvious – he’s not busy at all. “I might need a little help with something.” She decides to leave out the part where there may or not be a pair of maybe enchanted, maybe ferocious water fowl to fight. She offers him another grin, this own very much devious, she lets this happen and does not try to hide it.