Wapun Meadow i. a vagrant you shall become

Silent, held by the ferocity of the snowpelt's gaze - the fire of her stumbled courage - Rhælla listened raptly. Keen violet pierced, searching and soul identifying a measure of familiarity with the pearl's heart. 

"I do - falter that is. In time, not so much. Your ears, your other eye, they will strain to accommodate the loss. You will learn to listen as if you never before had ears." Here she smiled fainty, for if there was anything at all wondrous about such a thing it was this - the ability to hear the meadow around them: the throaty calls of bullfrogs, the hum of insects, the lonely cry of a whip-poor-whil hidden in the grass. 

"I will teach you to fight with one eye, if you would have me as mentor," she offered readily, earnestly. "I was once trained in combat by the Icadearian Kingdom's finest knights," she added - by way of credentials. It was only a small lie - she'd been mentored by a knight, the best of them in her eyes, but Daegon was a secret to be shared with none. 

The sylph had risen after, gesturing for the pallid fawn to stand with a faint tip of her rosebud nose. "We start now if you wish?"