Jade Fern Grove Seems you cannot be replaced, and I'm the one who will stay

Fire lake. Mother Rain and Father Fire, joined as one; Loch Teine, in the language taught to Lestan by his mother. She wondered if he would teach her, if she asked. A language of dancers and beauty, a fire that didn't burn. Oh, She breathed, wide-eyed; enchanted. There was so much more to the world than she had ever realized, and Lestan —
Lestan was a dancer, and that delighted her beyond words. He laughed, and she was nearly taken by the urge to ask him to dance with her, a sudden and forceful and childish wish. But it was stupid! She blushed fiercely, her own sudden shyness on full display. There would be no rain here, and dancing… it wasn't something you did with just anyone. Maybe he wasn't just anyone, but she definitely was.
Snow; he introduced the weird water to her with its proper name, and she was grateful for that. It's very pretty, She added quietly. He seemed to have found something — oh, right, hunting! She'd forgotten, but he seemed to remember enough for both of them; he didn't struggle at all with focusing on so many things. Or if he did, it didn't show.
He asked if she'd been a raindancer, never missing a beat, and just like that she was distracted again. Lestan, a dancer. She tried to picture it. Yes. It's been a long time, though… If she'd been fully paying attention, she might have sounded sad. But she was thinking about Lestan, dancing, and wondering if maybe she could ask him after all.