Blackbeak Bluff i wonder if she misses me, probably not

Her smile grows slightly, but she doesn't look at him again. I could teach you, She offers without thinking, voice soft. She's reminded of Siarut, of the beginnings of their attempt to share their languages — Rokig may have none to offer, but she doesn't mind. At least, she thinks, he doesn't seem arrogant or hot-headed.
Love is meant to be shared, isn't it? She laughs slightly; if only the language itself could bring love. Sometimes she wonders what her father had meant by that — he'd always said it so teasingly. Perhaps because it isn't true at all. Love has no language but the murmured melody of loss.