The Tangle Explode your hours and you'll see how time will transform.

He was curious, but not enough to venture forth. It seemed the other young male felt similarly, choosing to maintain a comfortable distance between them. Dacio appreciated it. He was hardly in the mood to have some stranger poke their nose into his business.

From the crimson yearling's lips spilled what he assumed to be a greeting in his own tongue, and Dacio's interest spiked. Aure had shared with him a language he'd never had the patience to understand, though he'd once found some comfort in the smoothness with which she spoke it.

But she was natrona now, and a muscle in his jaw tightened as he recalled the last time she'd saw her alongside the other traitors as they prepared to take their leave. "Yes," he answered, casting his bitter thoughts of former comrades aside as he gestured over a peppered shoulder with a cant of his raven-tipped crown. "With Drageda, on the cliffs to the North." A whisker twitched. For how long? "And you?"