Aure was lost in her own ravished reveries the same way that the feisripa phantasmed about his gypsy. Where Artaax's concerned gold, the skayona herself mused over obsidian; the obsidian of her cove, of her diavol. All eve and into morning -- and any "dealings" since her return -- Aure continued to sign herself with unending deviltry over into the covenant of his embrace. Even a flicker of all of these starless frenzies had her breath mute and taut; had her aching.

Her affections for Verx were only further pressed into her soul, and it wasn't simply in the physical; it was in how he would thrum to her with some enthusiasm, before drawing that lovely slip-up behind sheepish demeanor. It was in his incorrigble, uncouth quips and lewd humor. Maybe all she could do was to scrunch her nose at her stars and herbs, fervently and silently pining for the singular male she couldn't quite reach. Despite it, she still languished into repose each night, with her heart pounding out a rhythm that hummed the syllables of: drag-o-stea, drag-o-stea, drag-o-stea...

Perhaps she simply fell in love too easily, having never felt such in the harrowing years of her life so far. And, perhaps, it was rather close to that thing called love, but not quite. In the meantime, this feeling instead wavered on the precipice of her emotions in something akin to a... deep captivation. And despite it all, like the birdcatcher still, the way she was enraptured by Vercingetorix refused to diminish. And, speaking of Artaax... "Suilad, birdcatcher!" she preened, rocking into a prance with her tail feathering vivaciously behind her.

The question was posed to her as if she'd arrived to expect something from him -- at least, that's how she heard it. She could've said nothing was further from the truth, but, yeah, it wasn't. She wanted company. And luckily for Artaax, or anyone in Aure's presence, once she was within one's sights, she'd keep them bound whether they wanted to be near her or not. Perhaps it was a blessing that she remained as unaware of vacant-intoned words as she was of aversion in general.

All the same, she regarded him blankly for moment, lips parted in a little 'o', as if her words had yet to even catch up with her. Then a smile crescented along her lips, unimpeded entirely by his deadpan tone and look. "I wanted to see you. I never got to thank you for that little, ah, bird-lesson of yours," she spieled, blinking benightedly at him. "We have not spokes for some time. How has ze winter treated you?"

And then, without any regard for whether he would even follow her or not, she began to trail in whichever direction he'd set off into, still smiling like some love-struck lunatic. Whatever sprightly mood her brother had left her in seemed, for now, stubbornly permenant.

Had Aure been more preceptive of Artaax's outrageous pomp and circumstance, she may've been absolutely stupefied at his own reasonings. Had she not been so nonchalant in her mannerisms, she may've shriveled into laughter on the spot. Had she known all of this, she would've been more than welcome to invite Artaax to listen on how he was most certainly not the most desirable male of Drageda. She may've sneered all the while, too.

But alas, she wasn't aware of any of this, and Artaax could continue to delight himself with the idea that he was the one she'd fallen for. As far as Aure knew — which she didn't, since she was so ignorantly guillible — neither of them would be the wiser to the other's thoughts.

Lucky for him.

In answer, Aure gave a blithe chirrup, "Oh, I haven't found ze time to hunt anything other than rabbits, and my brother." And Verx, something faint from within her simpered. A pleasant smugness at all three notions graced her pale, scarred features, then; Artaax had become the recepient of her sudden, impish demeanor once again. Aure swiveled neatly to face him, heavy-lidded and petulant, "Do you only know how to hunt birds, though? Is there some lore-laden reason to why you hunt birds as you do?"

Fall alongside him she did, and regarded him with an ever-inquisitive gaze. "So, you are saying that hunting birds is like flying -- almost? Was it birds that you started with when learning, or was it other prey?" Her tail feathered in thought, wondering what to ask him next. But for now she remained quiet, giving him his own time to respond once more.

His boasting reminded her of the mountain-lord, Stigmata; and she thought that if these two might become inseperable if they ever met. Yet, perhaps not -- she wasn't as familiar with everyone Artaax as others.