You had a special gift, a healer amongst those who needed it. It’s what led you to the border of Northreach, as close to Iskaldrik as you could get, where those who scrambled to flee from the Witchers would find you, instead. You would smuggle them beneath the watchful eye of the Nightingales who would steer you around the Lake of Sighs. Your work will never be complete; moving people across Lysara who need it is no easy job. But a healer you are, and a friend to all. A mortal life is all you have, and you will do all you can with it.
INTRODUCTION
Zeliha (Zay-lee-ha) / 27 / Faiman (Healing) / Smuggler and Medical Apprentice
Her human mum loves elves. She was with a high elve man who left her with a baby boy, Zel's big brother, to go back to Avalon. Then mum married a Silver elf who died later on but not before fathering Zel.
Born in Lórien’dal, Zel was only there for a few years before mum couldn't afford to be in the nice part of the city anymore and they were pushed to the outskirts, by the end of the city. It wasn't nice there. Lots of meaner pariah elves and other shadowy people. But she likes sketchy people.
Mum worked her butt off and brother took to the streets, doing questionable things. Zel became a homemaker who tried to plant food for the family and probably trade some for more supplies. Probably learned to fix things around the broken house. Poor. Dreamed of nature and good times but was stuck.
Was in love with a guy who smuggled metals from Iskaldrik and the guy's friends were hurt so she traveled with him to go help them and he kissed her <3. But then she got kidnapped by other people and taken to Iskaldrik.
Eivor saved her. She goes back home but she's changed. Physical and psychological trauma left her in pain and sick in bed, where she would not leave. She wouldn't do anything. That scene in New Moon with Bella when Possibility plays.
Older brother got very worried and sad and made a deal with a demon (she doesn't know this) but it healed her pain and gave her the motivation to leave home.
Bye bye! She's off to see the world. Nightingales finds her trying to smuggle people out of Iskaldrik. Nightingales help her and then recruit her.
Currently practicing the medical and healing arts with mentors and is an apprentice. But, when night falls, she is smuggling magical people into Lysara from Iskaldrik and has been doing so for about 9 years.
Aways has cute bangs, even if I use the period piece gifs
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Juneau never felt more under duress of being grappled than when she caught Zeliha’s sent wafting toward her from somewhere nearby. Even Toth had not left her feeling quite so certain of her fate. And then the Faiman made impact. Without a Vuldak’s constitution, Juneau would have easily been toppled. “I’d really prefer we pretended I never left in the first place,” Juneau grumbled as she wrapped a single arm around Zeliha and patted her back to emulate the manner in which she had seen others comfort one another before. The Vuldak could still scarcely believe she’d been conned into the endeavor and coined as a hero–and by Casimir no less.
“I didn’t realize you wanted to go fight one so badly, I would have let you take my spot,” Juneau said with utter seriousness. She despised being hailed as some sort of selfless hero. The fact of the matter is, she’d do just about anything Casimir asked of her. She had been motivated to act by the bond shared between the pair of them, and not much in the way of a genuine sense of altruism. But she was glad to be back in Lysara now. “I was very, very brave. And I was not afraid at all.” It was the same bold face lie she’d tell Julian–except the wolf bond they shared often served as a sort of built-in lie detector. Even so, Juneau was fairly assured Zeliha would call her on her bullshit.
Zeliha grinned wide to Juneau's statement. A faiman could not lie, and so it was impossible to agree that her friend - or anyone who was sane - would have have felt fear in the face of almost certain doom. But there was an adventurous spirit in her friend, one that had Juneau so often finding new ways of testing her limits. One could say it was recklessness, but Zeliha was generous. "You are always very brave to me," she decided honestly, still grinning wide as she pulled away enough to simply hold Juneau's arms.
"And there is absolutely no way that I will ever wish to fight a God," Zeliha commented thoughtfully, "but I would also never let a friend go at it alone if I could help it." The smile returned as she squeezed Juneau's arms before finally letting go. "Thankfully, I know you weren't at it alone. I'm just so, so very proud of you, and so very selfishly glad you're back home." There was a subtle hint of uncertainty that crossed over the faiman's expression. This is home, isn't it? Lysara? Juneau had a business now, near the South just a few miles north of where Zeliha would be working now. Would the vuldak sell it all, return to Iskaldrik? She had figured no, but only just then realized that it was but a assumption. Her heart dropped.
Date: Iskaldrik is saved
Location: Wherever Araceli is
Characters: @theportaraceli & @zelihatheflight
Notes: Bsns grls. Zeliha has personal news and propositions
"I'm sure you heard, right?" Zeliha said in lieu of greeting, beaming wide with joy. If the changeling was anything like what the Nightingales had heard, he would make a fairer king. Smugglers like the two would never need to take another threatened person with magical blood across the borders of land or sea again. With much excitement and affection, Zeliha took both the lady's hands in her own. The faiman was there for official business, but it didn't change the fact that Araceli was a dear friend and it was wonderful to simply be in her presence again after a few weeks. "And look at you... you look so great, Ari." Far better than last time, went unsaid. Araceli had been through much in the past few months.
Date: Iskaldrik is saved
Location: Wildlands, border to Iskaldrik
Characters: @vuldak-juneau & @zelihatheflight
Notes: :''''
"You're back!!!" There was little time for Juneau to react; the faiman had already been running with her arms spread wide. Juneau would have been one of those that Zeliha had told she was moving to the South, by the border to Astoria. A healer and a smuggler was sorely needed there, not in the Wildlands where the people had been at peace and there were none to smuggle in from Iskaldrik.
But not even the Gods could have stopped Zeliha from returning to her former home see the these brave warriors arrive back from their journey Northward. The moment Juneau turned towards the shrill and happy sound, Zeliha launched herself and wrapped her arms around the vuldak. "I forgive you for fighting evil Gods without me, because you're alive and absolutely obliterated their sorry ass!! I missed you so much!!"
when: aligning with when many would be returning from the heroes unite battle, so not very far into any epilogue's posted
note: open ended for people who were definitely on said quest or just for faces who do not frequent haven often!
Julian had been restless as the many heroes headed out on the journey to reclaim the fallen kingdom. Many hours spent kicking himself and figuring that, though it had never once been his home, he should have fought for it, should have certainly been there. It was not his battle, but many he loved and cherished had taken off in pursuit of this and thus, it was all Julian thought of in their absences.
When news had spread from many Nightingales of the troupes return, many others around Haven had proved their own inquietude on the matter. Various healers and medics set up tents, some - ahem, Zeliha - even baked goods and gathered stone fruits so they'd have ample snacks to return to.
Julian offered his help wherever required and soon something of a makeshift welcoming tent was positioned right near Haven's entrance. It felt somewhat cheesy, but Julian was indeed holding onto barely tamed excitement to note his friends and their allies return.
At the sight of someone unfamiliar, Julian met them halfway to the entrance, visibly eager to lend a hand, "I take it you're one of the first to return from Iskaldrik?" Excitement bled into worry, dozens of questions that he could not bring himself to current rally off were barely contained on his tongue.
Zeliha's jubilance and curiousity could hardly be contained; it fought it escape her as eagerly as Julian's seemingly did. She could see the brightness in her friend's eyes every single moment that another face came through the trees. This one, however, did not seem to need any healing or warm greeting. The witch, a suspicious Iskaran Warrior of Mars (as far as the Nightingale knew) gave Julian a look of annoyance and brushed past him without a word. Nevertheless, the faiman approached with a wide smile. "Welcome back to Lysara!" She greeting, not expected a reply. (She did not get one; the witch walked away past all the volunteers and curious lycans.)
"I can imagine they're all so tired... Can you believe it?" Zeliha tugged at Julian's arm energetically, just as a small group of lycan children ran past screaming. They would one day tell their grandchildren about this day...
When the news had come to Zeliha that a whole horde of Iskarans were returning home to fight, she had dropped everything to return to her former home in the Wildlands and pray for their safe return. She lived in the South now, helping in the war efforts. But not even the Gods could have stopped Zeliha from witnessing this moment in history and being there when the brave warriors returned.
Julian, of course, had won over the faiman twice over and then a third time once she heard how he volunteered to help. He was now considered a very dear friend, even apart from how Zeliha cared for Juneau. "I will never need to smuggle here again if the new King is anything like they say! Did I tell you that I smuggled people here? Oh well, that's okay! I can trust you! My the gods and all the celestials above, I'm just so happy, Julian... It's a miracle beyond what so many of us could have dreamed of."
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I guess it goes to show, does it not?
That we've no idea what we've got
Until we lose it
And no amount of love will keep it around
If we don't choose it
And I don't know what's got its teeth in me
But I'm about to bite back in anger
No amount of self-sought fury
Will bring back the glory of innocence (x)
Do you walk in the valley of kings?
Do you walk in the shadow of men
Who sold their lives to a dream?
Do you ponder the manner of things
In the dark?
The dark, the dark, the dark
I am flesh and I am bone
Arise, ting ting, like glitter and gold
I've got fire in my soul
Rise up, ting ting, like glitter (x)
Julian wasn't often given the grand responsibility of wandering off to complete these transactions; normally a spectator of most things within and outside of these medical tents, being given the role of an active participant bordered on exciting for the gladiator werewolf. "Where are we going? Is it far? Should I tell someone?" Loaded with questions on this sporadic journey, he was not only curious but wholly excited on the matter, even if it only pertained to wound dressings.
Even before Zeliha had fully requested for Julian to pick up the box, the golden retriever personified was going to lift the items, shifting it above his shoulder with ease in case they were to indeed travel far.
Zeliha had intended to make it all the way to Ardentgate and assist with the war efforts against the darkspawn. That's where she had been heading before the entire destruction of it left her plans, as well as the Southreach, in shambles. Things were far more grievous than most typical citizens were truly aware of, and she wasn't sure if Julian knew the extent of the devastation that was wrought upon Ardentgate, or if he knew the polished versions that scared, hopeful people spread Zeliha didn't want to burst that bubble of hope, though she was half inclined to believe that a gladiator was not actually ignorant to any dark rumours. If anything, the famous entertainers were often thrown smack into the middle of The Game and all the information it spread.
Still, the Healer acted as though very little was wrong. That Zeliha was only focused on quick efficiency, not on hundreds of deaths and miles of rumoured destruction. The one good thing about all the violence was people got really good at making and spreading around medical supplies in bulk. "The carriages of course! They need to make it all the way to the South before tomorrow! It can't just be Asclepius Hospital helping out... At least not when so many of us have supplies to spare now!" She called from behind Julian, hauling just two of the boxes herself, nearly breathless.
"Thank you, wow, you're good at that... Have you never considered a career that wasn't fighting? You're really kind too! You could do things like this all the time!" She recalled his affinity for kindess and bravery after their debacle in Stumble Inn.
Zeliha had packed up. All her necessary belongings in the rickety forest cabin she lived in had gone into chests for transportation to the South. (Truly, it was only about 2 chests and her bag. The cabin remained furnished and ready for her to return one day, or for another to live within it.) Zeliha had had every intention of moving out to assist in war efforts against the darkspawn. Iskaldrik's borders had been quiet for months now, and the Healer and smuggler always went where she was most needed. But now? The news had whipped the Nightingales into a frenzy. Whispers, and messages came to Zeliha in droves, and her travel plans were all but abandoned, as were her intentions of telling Seris of her Southern relocation. This time, it wasn't simply temporary housing ventures in The Stumble Inn - the faiman had to go.
She had just finished explaining over tea with Seris, having invited her over for this purpose. "... You know what has been happening in the South, you know I was more needed there than I really was here once the Kossith were dealt with." Zeliha hesitated, glancing around her emptier cabin. The air was getting colder these days, autumn rising on icy breezes coming in from Iskaldrik. But the faiman hugged her arms as she looked back at the elve, seeking comfort more-so from her sadness than from the wind that snuck through cracks in her windows. "Now... well, now it looks like our people need me. Not a healer, really, but a relocator." (Relocator was just Zeliha's polite term for smuggler. Though, for the elves, it truly was just relocating.) "Regardless, I need to go, Seris... I needed to tell you first. Did they tell you what's happening in Avalon?"
The presence of the frown didn’t surprise Juneau–most people weren’t fans of the species. She could see why. But the expression Zeliha wore didn’t seem judgmental in the way Juneau had once feared so many people would suddenly become. She wasn’t worried that the Faiman had a newfound hatred for her. Zeliha usually seemed good at accepting things off the cuff and processing them later. This made Juneau feel foolish for having been concerned in the first place. On the other hand, it would likely be easier for anyone to accept Juneau as she was now that she didn’t have to consume a soul from the living once a month to sustain herself, although she hadn’t disclosed that yet–not directly, at least, and she didn’t know if Zeliha would piece together that happy circumstance based on Juneau mentioning her own soul was cleansed.
Juneau cast Zeliha a sidelong glance when she mentioned the Cove. It was strange that that event struck more residual fear into her than her own captivity. Sure–she had been snivelling and pathetic in the face of death, but she was not the biggest fan of what life had shaped into her path. Not until the last half year or so. “Yeah, it was gross,” Juneau insisted, wrinkling her nose, but Zeliha would likely be able to see through her defenses easily. “Even that time I tied that ribbon to your boot lace in the night with a wire and told you it was a snake and you panicked and thought there was a snake chasing you?” That had been some of Juneau’s finest work.
“Mmm, no. I don’t think she was a goddess,” Juneau answered after some thought. “I feel like a goddess would have had better hair. She had a knife–I think the magic was in the knife, not her necessarily. But I really don’t know.”
Zeliha could only smile with warmth and glee at Juneau's false, manufactured disgust. The quiet smile turned into a breathless laugh at the conjured memory. Some of her favorite recollections were journeys on the way to pick up refugees, traversing the cold and dangerous mountains with Juneau to find their hidden meeting points. It was best when it was just them both, no Ivar or Nightingales tagging along. She recalled the night in question with wistful amusement, her smile bright despite her eyes narrowing. "I didn't have any snake antidotes on that trip!" She swatted at Juneau's arm playfully.
There was a frown at the idea that her friend had not, in fact, encountered a goddess with good hair. But it was still a very incredible and wonder-inducing thought... this magical miracle maker and her knife. A woman of faith, contrary to the part of herself that was a nosy Nightingale, could easily accept that there some mysteries in this world not meant to be uncovered. Zeliha was silent and pensive for the count of five before glancing back. "Surely she had a name. And... well, what does this mean now? Are you still a vuldak if you died and came back? You couldn't have come back without a- a soul?" Of all the things Zeliha had to learn about creature magical physiology, this type of revival had never been in her studies. But soulless Vuldaks needed to feed on souls. She took Juneau's wrist gently, holding her in instinctual support for whatever answer.
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“For a few days by my best guess,” Juneau stated. But anyone she cared about enough had likely seen her corpse strewn about like some warning omen or play thing, so she hadn’t been entirely inclined to ask. “I told you I’m a Vuldak before, right?” Juneau asked breezily, despite the fact that she was entirely certain she had not. Julian, Adrian, and Alder–they knew. And Zagreus had pieced it together, and Prospero seemed to know she was not quite normal. But no one else knew, she was certain about that. And no one who had known her before, no one who might know to ask about Ivar’s involvement in such a rotten transformation. Juneau braced herself in case Zeliha asked about it.
Her shoulders shrugged as they kept walking. “Your guess is as good as mine. They were going to kill me no matter what, and some woman came to me and offered me some choices. One was cleansing my soul, which beats the hell out of an eternity in the Abyss. But this wasn’t part of the deal,” Juneau said of her presence among the living. “I thought I was gone for good.”
Zeliha frowned at the revelation, once more seeming deceptively unalarmed. In truth, perceptive as the Nightingale was, her mind had always kept a vague suspicion that Juneau hid something. What it was? She did not know. She had hypothesized darkfriend, Vuldak, or some forbidden magical artifact in her possession - even something far less foreboding like an identity crisis or a strange, unknown obsession that brought her shame. To hear it was Vuldak was simultaneously shocking as it was affirming.
She had not pried. In more truth, Zeliha would have been inclined to pry further with an important business partner, but it was, ironically, Ivar who had convinced her not to pry. Not because he said anything or knew anything about Zeliha's weak doubts, but because his mere black existence made the faiman an adamant defender of Juneau's innocence in this world. Eventually, it became an ardent love of friends that cast away all vague suspicions to the back of her mind. Zeliha no longer cared. As long as she loved and trusted the werewolf smuggler, Juneau's deep secrets would be her own business.
After a brief stretch of silence (she asked nothing), Zeliha gazed over at Juneau, her eyes steady and intent. "Remember what I told you after Hestia's Cove?" I love all the good parts about you, Juneau, and also the bad, because they all make you who you are when they come together. "I love all parts of you," she reminded her. "I always had, and always will." It was harder to hide her reaction at the mention of a magical woman. Her brows furrowed. "See, Vuldak I can understand but... a stranger who saved your life and soul? Did you perhaps encounter a Goddess?" At this, her eyes did widen slightly, and she halted her steps.
Since the last time she had seen the other, her face had been mutilated, now covering a large portion on the face of the once unblemished queensguard. "Uhhh... sure." It seems to mean more to the other than it did to her, this hug. "What did you call me?" she looked confused as she embraced the other; she wasn't even sure what language it was. To say Ingrid originally didn't want to teach anyone, now having two, one more formally her squire, was a mystery to her. It was more of a mystery why Zeliha kept coming back; in recent months, she hadn't shown the fighting prowess she had.
Zeliha's smile brightened and she embraced her, tightly but briefly, "Teacher," she replied, pulling away. "It's elvhen. It's also respect for someone who knows more, even if they aren't your teachers. But I haven't been able to call anyone that since I was little." Though Ruya had been her medical mentor for years, but Zeliha had always defaulted to common speech with those who were fully humans. Her wide smile faded quickly.
"But-" Her mind was racing, "Are you alright? Are you back to work?" The smile returned slightly. "I should have known they could never keep Ingrid of the Queensguard down."
“Maybe for you. I hate not knowing,” Juneau groaned pathetically. She had the brothel and half a mind to buy up a place in Hestia’s Cove but that barely felt like the makings of a fulfilling future. It was strange that her greatest plight had been pulled out from under her and while she was not ungrateful for the salvation of her soul had been preoccupied with it up until now. “Why not? Shit talking is fun.” Juneau appreciated Zeliha’s sincerity, she just struggled to reciprocate it. “But I’m fine,” Juneau insisted, looking at Zeliha and drawing the point out further by stopping momentarily,” Seriously.”
Juneau had to swallow back another groan at Zeliha’s softness. She appreciated it, but it would be terrible for the brand if Juneau seemed like she was softening with her passage of time in Taravell. Zeliha was welcome to be as blunt as she pleased and it wouldn’t have put Juneau off. The Vuldak was as blunt as they came most days. Today was one of those days, “Oh, well they killed me.” Well, sort of, but it was more fun to bury the lead and wait for Zeliha’s reaction. “I know you have, I watched them nearly take you from the Cove,” Juneau reminded her, and how long had it taken Alder to soothe Juneau’s anxieties and fears in the aftermath?
Zeliha frowned, both thoughtful and concerned but seemingly not surprised. Internally, the shock coursed through her --- but it was second-nature to resist it. If she gawked at people every time they told her they just 'fell on the cucumber and it got stuck up there,' trusting her judgement would be far harder. Now, deceptively, it seemed as as though nothing ever shocked the young faiman.
Juneau's reminder of the Cove made her frown deeper, recalling the fear in her friend's eyes. She nuzzled closer to her, eyes finally parting from their stare to look onwards. Zeliha shuddered. "Well, they quite clearly did not kill you for long," she murmured, not bothering to conceal the slight emotion in her low voice. "How...?" she breathed out, her voice barely above a whisper, "How are you here?"
"I don't like the big cities, i would prefer a small village than somewhere so... so busy." In a village, it would be easier to keep an eye on new faces, the comings and goings. "I think a reach will do me just fine." They should be in theory the furthest point from the city.
"I have lived in the Silverlands most of my years. I have visited Avalon, though i can't return there anymore." if he could, he would be hiding behind the moongate discreetly. "Anwir." he wasn't so sure why she was so excited about the situation, but as long as this wasn't a trap, he supposed each to their own. "No, I'm keeping my name." it was a risk, but it was one of the few things his parents gave him; he wasn't about to throw that away. He could see she wanted to ask more, but to him, this wasn't a social call it was his freedom
Zeliha nodded and hummed in agreement, taking his comments into account. He was not the first to want nothing to do with the cities, even one still such as young as himself. But at the mention of having visited Avalon, her very slightly pointed ears seemed to visibly perk. Her smile grew and she turned her gaze over to her new client now as she listened. Had been to Avalon, could no longer go.... There were a few possibilities for that, but the most likely in this strange scenario where he was being so clandestine were few. Perhaps he had been held against his will by someone abusive, or even the law. In the back of her mind, she tucked away these half-baked assessments. Her more private connections would have to do to protect him if he was avoiding more than just society.
"Anwir," she repeated, now a bit more sober in enthusiasm. Nonetheless, Zeliha continued smiling. "It's a beautiful name, I wouldn't want to change it either. However, that could potentially pose a risk if you are in hiding." There was a tiny pause, enough for her to gaze at Anwir in such a way that showed no judgement or interest, only cool appraisal. Providing safe places for her clients was the priority at all times. If he were so horrible a person that there was no room to work with him, fellow Nightingales would inform her within a fortnight. "There will still be some details we have to falsify in your paperwork. Minor things like birthplace and birthdate, perhaps. The less you want to falsify, the more you risk. But it's all up to you. I can work with whatever you need." Her smile was soft and sober. "I have connections, landlord and ladies who are unequivocally confidential."
It had been the first quiet day within Haven's medical station for the first time in weeks, a tandem deposit of hope considering they also hadn't discovered anyone else lingering within the sea or in nearby isles. Julian had practically insisted to help in one way or another, but it had mostly been fetching wrappings, warm water, or any other medicinal need for those within that were in need of necessary care. Mostly he was enamored how so few could take care of the many; Julian couldn't say that those within the gladiator arena were proficient in healing or mending others, and there was a small part of him that found it spectacular to witness such healing measures being drawn out accordingly.
He tossed an empty container, which once housed various bandages and wrappings into the trash, opening the cabinet to note that had been the last one in their count. Zeliha was off in the corner, situated at a desk, with a paper and quill in hand; whether she was doing her own inventory or writing something personal, Julian didn't know. "I don't want to jinx anything, but someone likely has to wander out and grab some more wrappings soon," jinx in the sense of their being another tragedy, something he always figured was looming and often looked upon with bated breath. Julian hadn't figured he was ever a pessimist but the world was swirling towards a dangerous objective.
"Ah, Julian!" Whether or not the man had given his name to her freely, it was not a chore for a Nightingale to learn the names of those working directly around her. Additionally, Zeliha always made it a point to appreciate those who went out of their way to be helpful and charitable to other's - learning their names was the least she could do. Zeliha had, of course, quickly taken a liking to the kind gladiator. "Perfect timing." She sucked at the bottom of her lip as she finished scrawling down on her parchment: wrappings x10. It looked like a list of necessary supplies. With a hum of satisfaction, the faiman tossed the feather pen onto the table and quickly got up.
"We need to drop this off," Zeliha chimed, waving the parchment. She was already rounding past the table and Julian. "No one has time to stop by right now... Come with, please? I don't think my arms are up to the task of box carrying."
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Date: Maybe a week or so after Ingrid's arrival back
Location: Wherever Ingrid is
Characters: @akanisxingrid & @zelihatheflight
Notes: <3
Zeliha wasn't quite sure if the Warrior's Guild would ever be a good fit for her, but it did not change the fact that improving her fighting had become a focus for the faiman. The world was only becoming more dangerous, and her reasons to survive only grew. The blessed mace was strapped at her side, but it was not the reason that Zeliha had rushed to see Ingrid this month. The healer and smuggler wasn't moving her things to the South until she'd been able to check up on all those she cared for who were taken by the Kossith. Like so many others, Ingrid had been in Zeliha's fervent prayers. The changeling's candle had flickered long into the nights, casting smoke and murmured entreaties into the sky. It could finally preserve its wax tonight.
Relief surged through Zeliha when she saw Ingrid in the distance, making a smile light her face. She goes to her- slowly at first, then as quickly as she can before she stops herself from jumping. "Can I give you a hug, Hahren?" Breathed out: Teacher. They'd only been able to meet a few times, but with an affection for their shared elvhen connection and her own gratitude for Ingrid's time, Zeliha had given the unique changeling a moniker of respect.
Maybe he shouldn't have snuck up on her for as long as he did, that mace by her side looked like it could do some damage, and currently he had no weapon to his name. His only form of self-defence was his ability to mimic someone else and on this occasion it would have been hers.
"No, I'm not injured..." Well, by the sounds of it, he had also found a healer in her if the time ever became necessary to seek one out. "I do want one, but not in that city." he had he got his information wrong? he wanted to be far away from Eterna as he could be; it was a city full of vipers. "Oh, I..." but he couldn't object in time before he was already handed the reins of the horse. "Right, Mr Hooves?" Anwir didn't sound entirely convinced but if anything went wrong, it looked like he was becoming a horse thief.
"Oh, that's new! I did mean Lysara, but Eterna always comes out. Just about everyone wants to live there when they get to Lysara." Maybe this man was in a lot more trouble than she expected, or he just really didn't like the bustling urban life with its job market and schooling. "That's okay, I have tons of options outside the city too. The Queensland, Silverlands and here in the Wildlands are my specialties. But if you wanted any of the Reaches," Northreach, Westreach, Eastreach, Southreach, "I still have some connections there, so don't you worry."
"Are you originally from the Silverlands? Is that where you're coming from?" Whether it was slightly pointed ears or his accent that gave it away, or even something else, a Nightingale was always perceptive. "What's your name?" She paused to flash a smile. "And don't worry... we can change it later if you want." After a little wink, Zeliha turned her smile towards the trees. She walked with purpose and little worry now. And as big of a yapper as she was, it took some effort to bite her lip from asking her stranger a million other questions. With each eager step, Zeliha seemed to bounce.
