that’s a nice tree . sturdy and tall , with branches that wind to make perfect notches for lounging and singing a ballad . he likes that tree . he’s seen that tree . three times now , maybe four , the hours are muddled , blurring together just like the routes they’ve traced and retraced through the ionian wilderness . ❝ i like that tree , ❞ he stops and says to xayah’s retreating back for the third , maybe fourth time . and it certainly isn’t a back to tire of looking at , but rakan can only focus on something for so long before his attention teeters , wanders and then DISSIPATES ENTIRELY .
he reaches for her shoulder to give her pause and speaks again with an air of defeat that’s feigned and dramatized . ❝ you sure you know where you’re going , honey ? it’s okay , i promise not to tell anyone if you don’t . we all make mistakes . well , not me . i do everything with purpose and style . ❞ wanting for motion , he PREENS his feathered cape behind him with a gust of magic to accentuate his point . ❝ but you know . generally . it wouldn’t hurt to stop at an inn and ask for directions . ❞ this is introduced with a trace amount of hesitation . their last encounter with a human settlement had resulted in a threatening turn away at the door . a result of xayah’s rising prominence as a figurehead of the rebellion , her features passed in warning from village to village . normally he can get them in on guile and charm - as famous as she’s become , HE IS RAKAN , and an entertainer of equal renown . this attempt had been met with weapons and jeers and no such luck . tough crowd , that . ❝ not that you don’t make for a great view , but i wanna admire you over a glass of wine . oh and chocolate . ❞
