“     tell  me  again,  please  ...   the  spring  spire  ;   what  does  it  look  like  ?      “       the  feywild  had  never  been  a  concept  to  her,  simpler  things  consumed  her  mind.  people  from  the  feywild  seems  an  even  strange  concept,  so  she  adored  every  tale  that  balmaer  choose  to  share  with  her and  each  time  berry  watched  and  listened  with  wonder,  houses  themselves  living  in  sync  with  nature  as  if  there  was  no  difference.  it  was  hard  for  her  to  imagine  anything  other  than  a  camp  site  in  the  middle  of   the  forest  so  she  enjoyed  letting  balmaer  lead  her  imagination  to  the  feywild,  to  greens  that  her  eyes  had  never  seen.

“Your goddess isn’t going to get jealous, is she?” He asked lightly, then leaned in to kiss Balmaer again.

     “Perhaps... But what fun would there be, if there weren’t some things just outside of our reach? I find that, sometimes, to grasp at the intangible can be more pleasurable than to take hold of something not meant for your hands. No single man has held everything in their hands, and that is quite intriguing to me. Even the gods split their work amongst themselves, if I’m to be told correctly. No one being is certain of everything. Has experienced everything.” Artagan had drifted off into his own thoughts, speaking verbatim as his mind wandered. He barely paid the stranger mind, only wishing an ear for his meanderings.

👀👀👀

"I’m sorry, but did you say Feywilds?” Percival feels a little self-conscious about accosting this stranger in this way, but for the first time in four years, he feels a stab of excitement. Not only that, but this stranger has a strikingly similar color palette to Percival himself, which is not extremely common, though of course Percy is mostly used to human appearances. “This is such a coincidence; I’ve always wanted to go!”