Totoka River There is no sorrow like the memory of love and the knowledge that it is gone forever

@Andronika

It was not long before he was on his feet, and with the girl at his side, moving through the new land. The rain came to a gradual stop as they  headed away from the coast and towards a twisting river; although it could be said it was more of an easement, for the percipitation thinned but did not abate entirely. Like the sense of loss that plagued him.

Eventually he sought to be alone — to think, reflect, and mourn. After promising to reunite with the darling girl should he be in need again, he set off through the wilderness on an easterly path. Before long the river's roaring could be heard, and he followed the sound of it until finding a chasm in the earth where it existed.

The edge of the river was irregular and rocky, with many trees to block his path, or roots pulling on the clay-heavy soil. It took time, but eventually the man found a route down to the fresh water's edge. He did not drink at first. Rather, he looked upon himself reflected in the quicksilver depths — seeing his face reflected with irregularity, as if by a broken mirror.

After a minute or two he dipped his head and drank.

Apologies for the somewhat late response!

 

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In her much younger days, Andronika had found the rain to be rather bothersome and annoying, always dampening her once finely groomed fur and keeping her from romping outside. Now, however, as a wolf whom had traversed across many different lands and experienced worse states of wellbeing, she had come to appreciate the rain. She liked the gentle shower of spring, the way it slowly penetrated her coat of land debris and sea salt, washing over her like the careful licks of a mother's tongue. A second bath, she mused, though it did little to clense her of that salty sea smell... regardless, the rain was still welcome and felt very nice.

A good majority of her time was spent just feeling the rain, letting it soak through her pelt with her eyes closed and a tranquil look on her face. Now it had was lessening though, slowing to light drops that could hardly be felt against her thick outer coat. This realization caused a frown to pull at her lips, not really wanting the shower to end, but perhaps was time to stop standing around doing nothing, to move on and actually do something productive. That idea in mind, what did she want, or rather need, to do? Well, for starter's, she was positively parched. All this travel along the coast with so much water at her disposal, yet not a drop to drink, as salt water wasn't very... good. She'd found that out the hard way upon first arriving in the region. With a mouth as dry as the sand (and she would certainly know how dry that was), she figured she needed to find something to drink, and quick. So the youth began dedicating her time not to enjoying the rain, but to sluething out any nearby source of freshwater she could find.

It took her a while, still not fully accustomed to this land or the act of tracking, but she did eventually do it. Traversing further inland, she happened upon a nicely sized river nestled amidst the greenary of a forest, framed by rocky shores and towering trees on either side. 'Twas through these trees that she spotted the rushing waters, the sparkling sight coupled with the sound of a steady roar. However, the land didn't exactly seem to slope, slightly puzzling the she wolf as to how she'd get down. From her obscurred view, she couldn't tell where the shore started either. So she curiously trotted forward to investigate.

Now poking through the trees and in better view of the the river's true edge, she found hrself atop a rather steep incline of rocks, leading down to the banks below. Her lips pursed and her eyes narrowed analytically, a small "hmph" escaping her muzzle as she surveyed the land, pondering the safest way down. Her downcast gaze traced all the way along the banks to her left and right, searching for a better path, until her eyes suddenly landed upon a wolfish figure not too far away, already down at the water's edge and lapping at it's content. The appearance of the stranger caused her to silently gasp, eyes going wide and muscles tensing in alarm, feeling that all too familiar sense of panic whenever she spotted a wolf that could be a threat. The shock quickly faded though, Andronika now more used to happening upon wolves she didn't recognize, and she instead became more interested in just how he got down there. The rocks he seemingly decended from seemed just as steep as her own, no distinct path carved out for him to travel down. 

Maybe it's worse than it looks... She thought slowly, returning her pale gaze to the rocks below. Yes... now that she looked at it... If she stepped there, then lowered herself over there... Concentrating hard, her eyes trained on the rocks, she slowly but surely began to make her own path, decending from rocky perch to rocky perch and bringing herself closer to the bottom. The process went surprisingly well until she found herself without another prech to step on, but at this distance, she chanced allowing herself to slip down, and that too worked pretty well, aside from her pushing a few smaller stones into the river below. Now finding herself at the water's edge, she took a mere second to glance at the stranger, warily scanning to see if he'd noticed her yet, then she carefully waded out into the slow, lazy shallows and dipped her head to drink, quickly lapping up the fresh water to soothe her prached throat and mouth.
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Your post was such a great read!

There was a certain level of relief that he reached, an appeasement, while he drank. When his thirst was satiated Pendragon did not lift his head away from the coursing vein of water; rather, he loomed over it and watched as the light caught in the river. He studied the way the light curved as the water hit the rocks upon the bottom of the shallows - he searched with a vague sense of interest for any fish among its depths, but did not move from his position. Before long there was a scuffling sound behind him — then adjacent to him — and a few rocks scattered and splashed in to the river. Some were carried a few feet and deposited among their brethren (likely never to be lifted free again), while other bits disintegrated.

The man turned his attention - ears first - towards the sounds. He turned his head next, and saw the fair-haired woman coming down the incline after him. What had taken Pendragon much consideration and time seemed to be a simpler task for her. The clay dust still dominated the fur of his paws and lower limbs, even a patch upon his belly from where the steep incline had become nearly impossible for his bulky body to traverse (he'd lowered to his belly and slipped down part of the way, similar to the manner in which the girl tumbled those last few feet). But she made it, and he was glad upon seeing the accomplishment.

Pendragon returned to watching the river, acting a bit coy, for he did not wish to intrude upon her any further than he had (as unintentional as the watching might've been). He pivoted an ear as he listened to her tiny sounds, such as her claws upon the bedrock of the river's edge, or the subtle noises of her lapping at the water. The pair of them were not so close that they were crowding one another, but the area which provided access to the river was rather narrow. Pendragon had to stand with one paw in the river so as not to get too close to her — although he held a diminutive posture all the same, his tail low but flicking invitingly, just in case she wished for company — and he took to watching the soil lift from the fur up to his ankle while time ticked on.

Thank you! <3

 

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The male made no effort to acknowledge her existance, seeming perfectly content with keeping to himself in silence, so Andronika mirrored his actions and didn't say a word. She just focused on her drinking, the taste of the mineral-thick water upon her tongue and the satisfying feel of it sliding down her throat. Being fresh, the water here didn't have that pungent reek of salt, but it did smell of more earthy scents, like the soil of the forest and the rocks the river flowed over. Also, something... strange. New. It was the faint taste of fish, but having never tasted or smelled that before, the naive youth couldn't give it a name, only identify it as odd. 

A good minute or two passed before her thirst was quenched, and when it was, she ceased in her drinking and lifted her lips from the water, panting some after holding her breath for so long. The water dribbled down her chin and fell in a steady line of droplets back to the river, creating little ripples that quickly disspated in the lazy current, but distorted her reflection all the same. Now no longer distracted by her thirst, she became aware of just how awkward the silence between them felt. Surely he knew she was there by now, with her standing in his pehiphreal, and if not by that, then by all the sounds she'd been making? And by that logic, it was clear she too knew of his exitance. Neither could deny the presence of the other, yet niehter said a word. So they were both just... waiting; not making the first move. 

Her pale gaze lifted to him now, her nose tipping up in his direction. She scanned his form, his earthily toned features, taking in every detail that his appearance would provide. Nothing really stuck out to her, as he seemed (almost borishly) average. Not underfed, not overweight, not weak and scrawny, not large and bulky. Just... a wolf. Hmm. She tried to pick up his scent, but just as it had done when she'd bathed in the Sound not too long ago, the water clogged her senses and made it hard to pick anything up from this distance. As far as body language and expression went, he didn't seem aggressive or upset. No red flags stuck out, warning her to stay away. In fact, the tip of his tail was offering a few flicks; a friendly gesture, it seemed.

As it always did, her curiosity got the upperhand, and she found herself wanting to greet the man, hear his voice, learn his story, get closer. Her head still remained lowered to the water, but her eyes stared up at him, burning into his figure and taking on a posture that almost looked like a predator surveying prey. "Frequent these waters often?" Drawled the fair woman, her tone sounding slightly indifferent, but clearly directed at him. Well, who else would she be asking? The rocks?

As for why she always introduced herself to strangers in the form of silly questions, she didn't really know. Why did she have to be so indirect? Why did a simple "Hello, my name is" never suffice? Perhaps she thought she was better than that. Liked to make them want to know her name instead of just tossing it out there. Regardless, even if the question wasn't very relevant, she was fully intent on getting an answer, waiting patiently for his response. And, of course, now that she'd decided she wanted one, she would be getting a response.
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They were silent together for a while, but in that time as she digested, Pendragon studied her. He studied what little things he could without disturbing the moment, taking small fleeting glances when she was preoccupied. Gradually his interest grew, for it was much easier to focus on another being and ignore his own pain; so when she spoke, he welcomed the opportunity for conversation. Judging by her voice alone she seemed cautious — but that was obvious, so was he. The tone reminded him of his younger siblings, and adding that to the girl's size and ability (when descending the hillside), he assumed she was around his age. Yet when he turned and gave her a direct look, he saw youthfulness reflecting back at him. She was young! Fresh out of childhood - and alone?

This land was a peculiar one indeed.

No, he answered after a missed beat, and then turned to regard the river again, but only with a fleeting glance. She was much more interesting than his own unhappy thoughts. Judging by her finesse when climbing down to the riverside, he considered returning the question — but ended up changing the topic. You have a noble bearing, he complimented easily, for he could identify anyone of high-breeding, although why someone would allow a princess to wander without a guard was a perplexing thought indeed. Does your kingdom encompass this river?

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A dissatisfied frown took hold of her features at his response, coupled with pinching brows. No. Alright then. Fat lot of info that told her. Suppose it was her own fault for asking a "yes or no" question, but the self centered youth was never one to blame herself for long. He still could've told her something more than just "no". She lifted her head completely now, her eyes sill trained on him through a half lidded gaze, then her head turned to the side, peering thorugh the trees beyond. If he didn't frequent here, then where? Was he even a resident of the coast, or a traveler like herself? She'd figured that was what she'd be asking next, but before jumping right back into the conversation again, she paused for a bit, wiling him to say something else.

And he did.

Her ears perked to his next statement, followed by the return of her gaze to his form and then the turn of her head back to face him. "You have a noble berring," were his first words, invoking a flattered spark to flare in her heart. Why yes, she was noble! How rare it was for this to be observed and noted! Out here, beyond her abandoned home, away from the throne she never got to have, all wolves seemed horribley equal. The notion of title, blood, and nobility either didn't exist or simply didn't matter. She'd grown to feel like nothing more than a commoner herself, and that was truly a horrible feeling. What a true pleasure it was to called noble again! It pulled a small smile at her lips and encouraged the female to puff out her chest, standing tall and holding her head high in a learned, regal posture.

Then came his next words, however, and they suddenly made her blood run cold, all pleasure and satifaction gone from her features. For a brief, terrifying and shocking moment, she actually thought he knew, thought he had read her mind and looked into her dark past to choose just the right words. She could be complimented with a "noble berring" without him actually knowing the weight of his words - she'd assumed it to just be a happy coincidence. For him to use the term "kingdom" however, that was just far too personal, far too accurate. It was a word she'd never heard another mutter, and it made her wary, suspicous. The question itself also brought back memories, reminding her of the real broken kingdom she hailed from and why it was broken. "My kingdom is dead," her dark, gloomy concious whispered, returning those grieving emotions she fought so hard to keep down.

This sudden shift of attitude had been made evident on her face, shown by her slightly widening eyes and blank expression, her gaze clouding and looking at the past instead of at him. She was silent and motionless like this for a few seconds before she was able to calm herself, slowly phasing back to reality. He couldn't know, the more logical voice in her head muttered. It was just a coincidence. And with that, came a more hopeful thought. Do kingdoms really exist out here afterall..?

Blinking her eyes a few times, her face hardened into something dark, clearly bothered but trying to return back to her previous mood. Aware her mixed feelings had been evident, she tore her gaze away from him once more, not wanting him to see the pain in her eyes. The intensity in which she stared at the treeline made it seem as if something really interesting must be lying beyond the river. 

"Yes, I am of noble berring, but my kingdom is... well, was, very far from here..." Another pause was taken, so as to compose her thoughts before turning back to him. "...and it is no more."

Her eyes weren't red, no tears pooled in their rims, and she wore a look that said she was determined to stay that way. Her tone had also been bland, not as emotional as one would expect such words to be, as if she were merely stating a fact. There was still a certain listlessness to it though, showing she was not entirely unaffected by this information.

"Tell me your name, stranger." Her voice became firmer now, dripping with intense curiosity and demand. "I have never met another in these lands whom knew of kingdoms and nobility."

She forced the memories and the pain that came with him to the back of her mind, sealing them back up in their jar where they belonged. The spectacle of a man before her was for more interesting. Who was he? How did he know of kingdoms and how to recognize one of noble berring? So many questions...[/td][/tr][/table]

His words seemed to hit a nerve. No sooner had he made his observation did the girl look at him so strangely — a storm beseiging him, having taken root within her youthful gaze. There were many emotions hidden there within the tumult, and as each flickered across her visage, he took note of those he recognized. She was hurt by the comment, surely; yet why his noticing of her fine breeding and practiced nature bothered her, he could not understand. Beyond that there was hurt which he knew well enough - sorrow, which was fresh within him - and finally, a great level of distrust. She looked away to compose herself, and Pendragon took her cue to do the same. She needed a moment, and he would not press her.

Then, turning back to him, she explained her home, and the many facets of its failings. It wasn't that she chose to be on her own, but rather, her kingdom had been obliterated somehow. It was gone, but in a manner that was different from Pendragon's own missing home. He knew the Vale persisted. This girl was different from him — she was truly alone, and instantly upon realizing this, Pendragon's heart hurt for her. His stomach twisted with a sudden wave of guilt, for it was his mindless comment, his observation, which had brought about this discovery - and the resurfacing of her pain.

Tell me your name, stranger. She demanded haughtily — and while Pendragon might have refused any other miscreant with such a vile tone, he could not do so with her. The look of absolute distrust was galling, to begin with. But he owed her something — a name was the least he could provide.

Pendragon, he announced, and then without bidding, son of King Caliburn and the Lady Blanchefleur. I too come from a kingdom — and I apologize, his ears thusly fell back upon his head, and he looked contrite as he spoke his next words, I did not mean for my words to wound you so. I am merely surprised to find someone like you here, of all places. Do you.. Have you a home now? He wished to prevent further harm from befalling this poor urchin, and was cautious in how he phrased things — but immediately after speaking Pendragon felt the weight of his words filling the silence, and regretted them all over again.

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As he was speaking, she listened silently and closely, drinking in every bit of information and not saying a word. Their little meet 'n' greet was evolving into a full on conversation now, one that had taken a much deeper root in her interest and emotions than she'd thought it would, so it was safe to say she'd be here longer than expected. Deciding to make herself comfortable, she moved a bit closer and took a seat, gently setting her rump down in the cool shallows of the river and feeling it swirl around her paws and backside as the man spoke. It did offer a slight touch of tranquility amidst the gutting emotions that had resurfaced... but not much.

Pendragon. That was his name. Foreign and unheard of, but it had a nice ring to it. However, maybe it was not his name alone that she liked, but what he said next, what he attached to it — son of a King, and hailing from a kingdom, naturally. She could've assumed he must have come from some type of kingdom if he know about them and if he knew how to detect the visage of nobility, but for him to be royal blood as well, was simply astounding. They shared a likeness in that, and though no wolf aside from a fellow Meronique could ever become her superior, she definitely considered this man (basically a prince in her eyes) to be far better than the common blood out here. Far more worthy of her attention and company. Even through her inner turmoil, this notion gave her a warm feeling, like that of two friends sharing an inside joke. Not that they were friends, but... similar feeling, regardless.

As for his apology, she shrugged it off with a dismissive flick of her ears. Having slightly regained control of her emotions and successfully bottled them up again, she was not as upset as before, therefore wouldn't hold the thoughtless question against him. It's not like he was the first wolf to invoke this feelings either; any number of thoughtless questions by other wolves would bring about her pain. Where are your from? Why are you here? Where do you live? Where's your family? They were simple everyday questions that couldn't be avoided, lest she just stopped talking to others completely. She'd just learned to expect this by now. He hadn't known. It wasn't his fault. It was just a mere question.

Besides, if the cost of learning about another kingdom and becoming acquainted with a prince was resurfacing her dark past, then so be it! It was worth it to meet one of almost equal nobility! To learn that kingdoms existed out here — that there may be a place for her after all, even if it might not be his kingdom — was well worth the anguish.

In his final sentiment, it seemed he wished to know where she called home now. The poised youth, whom had been maintaining a forced facade of apathy, faltered, her gaze clouding over and her posture slackening. Ah, how many times she'd questioned the purpose of her travels... Did she seek a place to belong, a new place to call home? Was curiosity about this new, foreign land her only driving force? Or was she simply trying to run from the past, hoping if she got far enough, it couldn't reach her any more? She could never give herself a straight answer, and always launched into a heavy moment of pensiveness when considering her intentions. Did she have a static home? No. Did she want one...? After a thoughtful pause, she gave her answer.

"I travel for now, as I knew very little of the land beyond my kingdom, and I wish to see as much of it as I can..." Her gaze turned away again, not to mask pain or to fight for composure, but to gesture in the ocean's direction, her mind picturing the dark and shimmering aquamarine waters. "The coast is rather nice though... I think I would like to stay here for a bit..." The closest thing to a permanent home she'd have, it seemed — wandering around one region longer than others. After reflecting on this idea, internally pondering exactly how much longer she wanted to remain by the coast, her gaze found him again. A bright, curious light shone in her eyes, almost entirely eclipsing the pain that had once been there. She wanted to know all about this man and where he hailed from, not just because of her naturally inquisitive nature, but because now there was a sameness they shared, and she was desperate to feel every extent of it.

"As for my being here, I should think the same of you, Prince Pendragon." She wasn't entirely sure if "prince" was the right title, but her mind spaced on what else to use. It was the only title she'd know to give a King's son. "Why are you out here, and not with your kingdom?" Her head now tilted to the side, amplifying the look of intrigue on her features.
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Her answer was vague, for which he could not fault her. Knowing what he did now - that there were worlds outside of his own, people beyond his kingdom, and the uncertanties that followed - Pendragon could do little more than empathize. Although he did empathize intensely as he listened to her speak, which was something.

Yet when she referred to him — prince! It does not suit me, he thought hastily — there was a subtle turmoil upon his face and he gave a mental pause, his mouth opening as if to say something, perhaps to refute the statement she had made. Then, as he felt his heart begin to ache for the shores of the Vale, the man sighed a deep and forlorn breath.

I.. I chose to forsake the crown promised to me, it had been a difficult decision, but Pendragon had always been a knight first and a prince second. The women of my home are studious, conscientious, and wise; they are practiced in the arts of healing, herbal knowledge, the study of the stars — and the men, when they are not born of royal blood, swear an oath to uphold the kingdoms ideals and become knights. I was preparing for such a life as a knight, against my father's wishes — and perhaps as penance for my foolish dreams, things went wrong, and I woke up not far from here. I was tangled in debris, sleeping on the sand as if born out of the waves themselves. A very... Unsettling awakening. It was a painful tale to recount, and one he had not expected to be voicing so readily. Yet this girl, she must have known what it felt like to lose everything. He could see it in her even as she sat there, listening with rapt attention to his tale. They shared a deep but similar sadness - a loss, an absence.

But perhaps you have the right idea, Pendragon concluded after his words grew stale upon the air, trying to look on the bright side even now, This land is beautiful, the coast especially. I have nowhere else I must be, so maybe the coast is where I'm supposed to be.

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"I chose to forsake the crown promised to me,"

At this, a look of obvious confusion crossed the girl's features, signified by pinched together brows and a small frown. There was clearly more to the story though, as the man had a lot more to say, so she tried to keep her thoughts neutral and not judge him too thoroughly. Still, she couldn't help but wonder: who would willingly give up their throne? Certainly not she! Her birthright had been unwillingly taken out from under her feet in one tragic night, leaving her alone to travel as a nameless, title-less child. She'd honestly give anything to have her crown back... Yet he didn't want it? How could he not want it; the power, the title, the respect? The thought was baffling... and a bit frustrating. So, even if she tried to hear him out and not hold this information against him, it was almost impossible to not feel the flare of jealously rising in her. Still, regardless of her feelings, she continued to listen with rapt attention, not willing to let her opinions get between herself and the only trace of familiarity she'd found since losing her birthright.

Negative emotions aside, it was intriguing to learn about his kingdom, about its people and its traditions. An ache crept into her heart when he described the women, the description sounding oh so familiar to her mother; studious, conscientious, wise. This was not the same grieving ache as before, the one that came accented with anger and frustration, but more of a bittersweet feeling... It brought back both the good memories of her mother living and the bad one of seeing her mangled body lain across the ground. His description of the men was not reminiscent of her father, but she was a bit pleasantly surprised to hear the familiar phrase "knight", another reminder that she and Pendragon had known similar culture. These positive feelings helped ease the negative, allowing her mind and face to return to a state of curious neutrality.

He finished up his tale, explaining that he'd yearned to be a knight instead of a prince (much to his father's dismay, which she could understand), and possibly as punishment for not fulfilling his royal duty, he suddenly just... found himself... here. Tangled up on the shore in ocean debris, as if spit out from the salty body of water itself. The confusion found her again, this time not in an intense judging fashion towards Pen's decision, but instead sharing his own concern. That was an unsettling thought on its own... she couldn't imagine it actually happening. Well, happening to her anyway; she did believe him. So he just... woke up here then? With no recollection of running away or even passing out? Her gaze was downcast and focusing hard on the rippling water between them, gears clearly turning in her head as she tried to figure this one out. With no real knowledge of how the ocean worked, she couldn't fathom that he may have simply been thrown in and carried here by the waves/current. To her, this was as mysterious as an act of magic, with no sense or proper explanation behind it, so she gave up trying to make it otherwise. Besides, even if she could help him find an answer, judging by the forlorn look on his face, perhaps it would just be best to change subject. Which he already did, now responding to her comment about the coast.

"I suppose that's one way of thinking about it," came her slightly mumbled response. Truly, that was an interesting idea; that one didn't need to find a place they belonged (where they were supposed to be), but could settle down and make a place they belonged. It put a tiny spark of warmth and hope in her chest, lighting her gaze and turning her thoughts in the more optimistic direction. "I wouldn't know if there are any other kingdoms in this land, but after learning of yours, I admit I'm a bit more hopeful about finding a place to settle..." The faintest smile found her features, an actually sincere one, which she hadn't worn in quite some time. It faded though as she considered her next comment though, knowing she was rounding back to the painful subject. "Wherever you should choose to settle though, I hope you... find out what happened." Her weight shifted uncomfortably before she decided to rephrase. "I hope you find your kingdom again."

A thoughtful pause passed between the two of them, one that probably would've signaled the end of the conversation, but she wasn't in the mood to say goodbye just yet. Though a tender subject, she eventually decided to tack onto her last comment. "What was its name, your kingdom?"
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I suppose that's one way of thinking about it, responded the girl, who then took on a very serious expression. Pendragon smiled thinly then, listening to her voice and comparing her, inadvertently, to his beloved sister. Her kind words lifted his spirit somewhat, but still he would be left feeling a bit homesick and sullen.

Then, after some quiet spread between the two of them she said — What was its name, your kingdom?

The small smile did slip, and with it went the sussuration of his thoughts. The man breathed a deep breath and went glassy-eyed as he thought of what to say, looking deeply affected, and while he was indeed sad to be thinking of his lost home he was charmed by her interest. It has many names, he answered then, being accidentally vague, but I have always referred to it as the Vale. Only the druids know its true name - them, and my father. His fib was small in his mind, which made it alright... He knew the true name, for he was of royal blood as was expected to. Sharing it with an outsider was taboo, and felt deeply invasive to the man. But in the days to come, Pendragon would be wracked with guilt over his choice to withhold the name of his father's kingdom: Avalon.

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There was a twinge of regret in the young wolf's heart as she observed the obvious pain her question had stirred in the man, envoking a subtle wince out of her, but the feeling quickly dissipated as she listened to his response. The notion that his kingdom had "many names" immediately made an uneasy feeling to stirr in the pit of her stomach. Putting it that way made his home sound... popular. Widely known. Important. As if tales of his kingdom (which he apparently called "the Vale") were often whispered from wolf to wolf, both inside and outside of it's walls, like a shared legend among all. It made her feel like she should know it, like if it were that important her mother or father would have at least mentioned it, just once, yet the name he called it by did not ring a single bell. So, she was left with that uncomfrotable, empty feeling of one forgetting something very signifigant, like a piece of a very crucial puzzle was missing. Perhaps, when looking back on it, she might realize her need to remember something she'd never learned was really just her desperation to connect with the past.

When he admitted he himself did not know its "true name", her brows furrowed together once more in confusion. So these "druids" (whatever those were) and his father knew the kingdom's true name, but... not him? Not the kingdom's prince and future ruler? She found it puzzling, so puzzling that it almost seemed amusing. Perhaps his ignorance of the kingdom's true name was linked to shirking his princely duties... another concept that was so strange it was almost funny. Did he really want to be a knight that bad? So caught up in just trying to figure out this mysterious Pendragon, she didn't really stop to reconsider his glum mood before asking, "Exactly what drives a wolf such as yourself to choose the life of a knight over a prince...?"

She reflected inwardly on the question for a silent moment after, as if she'd asked it to herself as well. Once finished with this, however, and tuning back in to hear his response, it was then that caught herself, causing her eyes to widen just a bit. "Ahem. On second thought, I... understand that's personal, and I suppose I have been asking a lot of questions..." She awkwardly turned her gaze aside, not sure if she should stand tall and be proud of her curiosity or actually back down a little. It certainly wasn't every day that she'd pardon a wolf from her need for knowlege (she'd ask as many questions as she'd like, thank you very much, for a princess had the right to know), but due to their similar situations and their shared nobility, she figured he was worthy of being an exception. She could back off, just this once, and actually be sensible in her actions. If he didn't want to answer, that would be... fiiiiiiine...
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