anyone;

[Nayl]

She spun the stars on her fingernails Behind her mask of marble there is anger and there is distress. Djinni performed what Nayl had asked, but had taken it to a term that she never anticipated (or wanted). It’s greedy and selfish to want to keep him penned here for her own amusement, but she doesn’t care. He has been content living in the shallow caves where darkness is able to consume him and solitude lull his roaming mind. That was what he wanted after all – the cave and to do what he pleased. She gave him what he wanted and still he left, still he abandoned her. Nayl’s gut wrenches when she weighs Djinni’s words. Sylva is theirs now under a false king, under a man that has promised a mere ounce of loyalty to the Nerinian Queen. Everything about the situation should elicit joy and pride, but still her mind is wracked by a tumultuous storm of emotion. Selfishness, joy, greed, loneliness, arrogance. What she allows to be mirrored on her face, however, is the smug contentment of hearing a friend having accomplished her assignment. A smile lifts the corners of her mouth and her fiery eyes brighten. ”You did wonderfully, Djinni,” because she took Nayl’s instruction and ran with it seamlessly. ”Thank you,” Nerine wanted friends and so their eclectic Mage delivered. Surely, their unhappiness will recede now. ”I’m sure he’s enjoying the change of scenery,” she adds sarcastically, a gentle laugh pursuing the idea of Stillwater wandering a forest, lost and confused. How odd it is to picture him dazed in a web of trees as a king (him, a King?!), but while Nayl takes amusement in this she also considers it heavily. Soon, he will want his cave back and he will do what’s necessary to crawl back. Without betraying herself, Nayl inclines her head and observes Djinni. ”You went above and beyond, my friend.” A solidifying statement to further conceal her ill contempt of having – temporarily – lost her playtoy. Nayl covet and myrina's creation