Sunspire Mountains he threw me on the needle bed, across my dress he laid

No. Riley responded, tone dull with disappointment. He'd hoped to track down the defiler, or to hear some howl from the man named Mal -- but his injuries had now claimed most of his energies, and Riley had spent the last several days lingering by this cave. 

As far as his contempt, the Queen had earned it by her presumptuous command that they leave the entire valley. Riley disliked being told what to do, and disliked arrogance and possessiveness over neutral things even more; in a way his hide had been more rankled by that meeting than by the first day he'd met Orlaith. 

He was confused by the phoenix's statement. Was not 'being' more than a name? Pausing, Riley's mind clicked and whirred over several responses before he selected the one that made most sense to him. Yes I am Riley. But that's just one of my names. It doesn't mean anything. It doesn't define me. Who am I, or you? You say I am a Saint, but that doesn't define me either. I used to be Easthollow, but what does that mean? I've always existed outside of the fringes. Outside, looking in. His voice twisted in anguished confusion, and the yearling fell to silence with an unsettled frown.