Nerine’s cliffs are a welcome sight and a terrifying one - the grey sands and caves hold memories I’ve long since leaving them, tried to forget about. Today, I find myself there because I need to not be found. And maybe, just maybe I’ll find the closure I need - if not, though, perhaps a satisfaction at destroying that one cave from my memories - if I can’t kill the memory, can’t kill the mare herself, then I’ll shank the cave.

My draconic paws stride truthfully, purposeful, and slightly tensed with anger and anticipation. I do not make it today, however - I find a stranger on the beach, and when she nears me in her flight over the grey sand, my body is pushed into the equally dark rocks, surrounding myself with an unnatural shadow. I don’t want to be seen right now... but the sun is peeking over the horizon when the young mare stops, and I grunt.

She’ll see my shadows as unnatural, what with the sun coming up. They’ll find me, and the task I set myself up to, will have to wait.

Why did it have to be Yanhua in the Alliance, I’ll often wonder. How come I didn’t know about his echoes? When did he pick up on Breckin, of all memories, and why did he have to use it then?

And why does it bother me so much?

Grimacing, my scaled tail slams against the wall I’ve sidled up to in powerless frustration. Then, I drop the aura (by now she’ll have noticed it, or me, even if it was for the sounds I made - and I don’t think I care). ”And who are you?” I demand to know. Nerine is mine, like the Isle, like Taiga - mine to find happiness in or to destroy that kind of thing if I so please. For so long I’ve been a silent guardian, for so long I’ve tried to keep up a good pace, a smile, and work for others.

It’s my turn now, and I won’t let anyone ruin it. I won’t let myself be distracted again.

She's... everything unexpected. From her not expecting to see me at all, to the way she reacts... dare I say starstruck? It's not my persona or my reputation that proceeds me, she only stares at the scales, the wings, my overall shape and... weirdly she admires it.

She might have made me self-conscious if she were older or I younger, but now I'm an old man looking at a girl who's impressed with nearly everything around her. I snort, producing cold air in the morning, one or two snowflakes forming in the humid Nerinian air as I stare back at her with icy blue eyes. "Surprise." The dry comment leaves my throat almost instinctually, a lifetime of jokes and smirks a habit I don't easily shake. As if I were out and about just to surprise someone from the shadows, or with my dragon shape.

I'd donned it for a battle with my inner demons, but the little fairy-eyed girl looks more like she found a dream come true. I grit my teeth as she tells me her name, Moonlet - just as dreamy as I'd expect. "Moonlet. You didn't knock." I accuse her of waltzing into Nerine unannounced. I've steeled myself again - built the ice walls in my chest that I didn't know had toppled over in the moment I decided to let anger rule me this night. Now, I just want to know what she's doing here. Is she spying? She doesn't know a single thing about Nerine if she doesn't know it has a dragon for a king now, so it's unlikely, but not impossible. Did someone send her? Is Straia watching through her eyes? No - she'd have sent ravens. Lilliana maybe - attempting to find out if he's reasonable or not. No, she would have come herself, or asked Heartfire.

She doesn't look like a new recruit, and she remains a mystery.

I'm not in the mood for mysteries today, and I glare while I await her answer. She'd better come up with something good, fast.

The overall feeling I get from this encounter is... weird. And not entirely taken seriously - I never wondered how that felt for everyone else, but I guess it’s not a nice feeling. Sure, she is enthralled and all that, but she refuses to acknowledge that I’m anything else but a pretty reward for her sneaking around. I bare my teeth a little, remembering my feelings of last night, of this morning before she messed it all up.

Truth be told, I would have said a similar thing. Too bad she’s standing near a rock wall - the one I had hidden against, slammed my scaled tail at - and I raise what would have been a brow, had it not been all scaly. ”There’s people living here, you know. No-one minds a visitor here I believe, but not announcing yourself is rude.” As is staring at me like that, I guess. ”I normally eat spies.” I tilt my head at her, wondering if the spell will ever break - perhaps it won’t.

”They are. I’m what they call king in the North, though I prefer my old title.” I glare past her towards the grey beach, as if it holds answers for me. I often still wonder what got me into this mess in the first place. Loyalty for a land that doesn’t stand for me? Love for a woman, or two, or just for my mother? ”So what now? Are you gonna stay or should I eat you?” I ask matter of factly, though my eyes may show a hint of emerald - but she wouldn’t know what that means, so to her it’s not the dead giveaway it is to others.

The girl is not deterred by my claims, though when she counters rudeness with another rude comment I raise my brow at her. ”A polite visitor would have waited for the morning. You should talk to Lilliana, if you can find her at this hour. Chestnut, blue eyes, star marking. Or find a buckskin called Lethy.” There’s no way I’ll direct her to Brazen and fairies forbid she talks to Nev. But if she can learn not to embarrass herself then maybe she’s worth keeping. If she stops staring at some point, that is.

”I didn’t.” I say to her question next with my signature knowing smirk. If she stops for a second to think about it, she knows it’s true. She’s right about not making much of a meal herself, what with her small stature - I’m more of an elk-eater, and not all of my time at that. Fishing suits me just fine, too, as does grazing - on my other days, so to say. Wouldn’t say off-days, as this would probably count as one. But she wouldn’t know that, so I just let it slide. Instead I occupy my time with watching her go over the information I just gave her, what with me ruling these lands. She doesn’t look like she believes me, and her question indicates such, too.

”I am, and was, Freyr of Icicle Isle.” I look at her directly, the green in my eyes fading for their standard ice blue color as I’m actually serious in that statement. ”The north is united under my name because it suits them to portray a dragon to the world. Not because I like being any kind of king standing far above the rest.”

My head retreats from talking to her directly, shaking my reptilian neck not unlike I might have as a horse, but the gesture isn’t as functional with spikes as it is with mane. Nevertheless scales and ice gleam in the low morning light and the visual might be different, it’s not without a certain effect. ”Then perhaps you need a new plan.” I offer casually, wondering if she had just hopped from one thing into another all her life. Does she want more of a purpose, I wonder?