pure sweet violent hearts

Perhaps someone more astute than Riordan would have noticed the subtle shadow that crossed her features, but he was not so focused. To Rio, any and every wanderer was exactly the same; the situations leading to their current lifestyle didn't matter, just that they were out here, in the wilds. That they were together in their suffering. Had he known the statement pained the girl, he probably would have apologized (but been somewhat confused, because what's in the past is in the past, or so he'd lead one to believe). 

Her own response made a lot of sense though. It was very strange to be seeking out a new family, especially after living for so long in one place, with one set of people, and to that Riordan could be empathetic.

"What about you?" the woman queried - but as he opened his mouth, she added, "I'm Bhreac by the way," - and he was caught with what to say next. A sheepish smile crossed his features, but he didn't lose his charm. "Riordan." There, names out of the way, he could give some kind of half-assed answer to her other question.

"I'm excited," he began, trying to sound confident, "I've been on my own for about a year now, give or take. When the days start mixin' together, ya know you need a change." It wasn't so bad though. He could keep his own hours, laze around in the sunlight or chase rabbits, or something equally as boring and catatonic. "I look forward to having a purpose again," at this his smile appeared to wane, and then he gave a little chuckle. 

"But mostly, I'm excited for the food. Livin' rough is not my style at all."