Luck did not find her that day; her path away from the pesky mountains had been blocked by an icy river, too wide to cross. She'd looked to and fro, trying to find a way around, but the pair of fluttering faeries were trapped. Lumiya did not have a death wish, therefore she turned 'round and ascended once again. Darn you, fate. She complained under her breath, nearly losing her balance at multiple points due to tired muscles and weakening spirits.

Eventually - she had no idea how long it had taken them - they reached a ridge. The wind was not much colder as it had been during her journey, thus she found this a good place to rest. The stranger went unnoticed, all sounds drowned out by the never-wavering mountain gale and her sight blocked by the snowflakes stuck in her lashes. Loinnir hooted, impatient and trembling, but the fae wasn't in the mood to condemn him for vocalizing his annoyance.

Lumi didn't know how to read the stars but found them beautiful all the same. They twinkled so peacefully, like the reflections 'pon the sea or the shimmering snow when a bright morning did come around. The fae couldn't help but feel so very small under that sky, perched 'pon a ridge with nothing but herself and her mute familiar — but they weren't alone.

She turned her head to see who had called out for them - or another - only finding shadows and silhouettes. Good evening? She returned hesitantly, her pristine voice standing out among the myriad of nightly noises. She felt Loinnir hopping from side to side, also trying to find the source of the feminine utterance. Don't be frightened - we come in peace. She followed up the greeting, seemingly talking to the mountain herself but, indeed, seeking the destination of her fate.

Eyes tired - mind tired - she awaited an answer. For a moment she thought she might've been imagining things, but if Loinnir had noticed it surely she wasn't dreaming or hallucinating. She knew what it was like to be in that kind of state - disoriented, but so very elated to be alive - and this was different. The cold kept her sharp, kept her gears turning and turning, and that hadn't been the case at the haven she'd found within a mystical forest of elves, sprites and other creatures.

Shuffle and steps, paws sinking into the snow making that satisfying, crushing noise - she now knew for certain they weren't alone, but it wasn't an evil spirit that haunted the ridge. The voice said enough; a young girl, perhaps the fae's own age, gentleness reflecting in the tones she put out there. There she came, 'round the corner and into the shine of the moon; her rosy coat no more than a few shades of cloud and iron in the dark. I'm Lumiya - Did my bird disturb you? She asked, assuming it had been Loinnir she'd heard before she checked if she'd been alone.

Despite her otherwordly nature, Lumiya could not read minds. Any thoughts about her own appearance were whisked away to focus on the girl before her. She was a pale sprite without the harsher markings Lumi bore — eyes a creamy saffron in this light, so different from her own. She felt a fluttering in her stomach, a feeling she only got around her brother - Venamis -, though in that case it had been because she'd been so very nervous to meet him after what had felt like a century. One day, when their paths crossed again, she'd make sure to turn him and free him of their family's shackles.

I named him Loinnir - he does not seem to mind. She answered softly, far more interested in getting to know Clementine instead of talking about her miffed, little bird friend. You smell similar to a woman I met in the flatlands - is your home nearby? She asked, voice tame and tender as she leaned in. She did not know why she'd done this, perhaps so that the two did not disturb this marvelous night with their babblings.

The word was an unfamiliar one to the young fae who spoke in riddles and metaphors, or at least attempted to. She chuckled and nodded regardless, finding it an interesting way of referring to her feathered friend. Why do you wish for your own 'homeboy'? She asked then. She knew her mother had simply stumbled 'pon a pesky raven one day and it hadn't left her alone since. Quite the same had happened with Loinnir, even though he most likely owed his life to her. She'd made clear that he was free to go whenever he pleased, but he'd stuck around despite this. Was this friendship then?

Rusalka, what a beautiful name for a place, she found. She referred to her parents as mothers, as in the plural. How odd that was - how could a child form of the pairing between two females? That was unlike how she'd been taught about mating, though she found it weird to ask. So, you're a princess then? She asked with a slightly teasing smile, then the sprite shook her head. We don't live anywhere right now - nothing has quite been like where I've felt home.