[private] but its wonderful to see that it never phased you

[Tarian]

Tarian slows his usually commanding pace to regard the girl with a speculative gaze. She has a gift that she wanted to share with the world and his mind flashes back to an ancient valley with a waterfall; it had several uses that his Grandfather had sought to share with the world. Stare at your reflection and ask a question, the lake might reveal a glimpse of your future. Wade into the waters and there were rumors that it could heal what had once been broken. Drink from the waterfall itself and it was said that the liquid could bolster your courage.

It seems such a foreign idea to Tarian now - this sharing gifts with others - and he wonders if it means that he has been in Beqanna (and other places) for far too long.

He continues to walk but casts another glance at the slim filly, who is crystal and quartz and gleaming spots. That black coat and those green eyes, though, keep making him think of his mother. It makes him far softer (or so he tells himself) than he normally would be with an adolescent. His recent trip to the Pampas makes him sure of it; the thought of the young Prince certain. "It's good to know your heritage," he mutters to the girl. "You could walk into your past if you don't know where you started from," Tarian tells her. Something that his grandmother - Aletta - had once told him. Loess is her past, it would seem, and so he hopes that it might help bring her present to light.

"Do you know where to start?" the Champion asks because he's been here for five years. Perhaps that is long enough for him to recognize something of what she is seeking. At the very least, he might know a name. These last years somehow feel like another lifetime to him, and yet, it has gone by so quickly.

Continuing to walk ahead, he veers right when their path splits. He's still looking for the stouter spire, one he thinks might provide enough shade and solitude (at least as much as she'd want) for the young mare. Tarian angles his head towards the few spiraling rock formations that approach on their horizon, "East or west?" He asks her, deciding to let her choose.

Flicking his pale tail when they briefly come to a stop, Tarian answers @[Cheri]: "The quiet." Glancing down at her, there is the hint of a begrudging smile. One that she seems to have drawn out of him, despite his best attempt at keeping up pretenses and protocols.