The Tangle the earth is littered with the ruins

their conversation appears to be fated to be short though scarab cannot say that he truly minds. he, despite not knowing anything about her other than her name, deems her to be a strange adult — though it escapes his grasp that perhaps the dramatic age difference between them might come off as that they have nothing in common or thus have nothing worth speaking about. whatever. the conversation was awkward anyway and the golden prince grows increasingly tired of the typical 'where are your parents?' and 'aren't you far from home?' questions anyway.

the golden prince leers at her and curls his lip in unfettered rebellion as she chides him and tells him that she should take leaf from her book and return home too. rusalka stands proud and fierce at his back and he isn't likely to do what she says just because she's an adult. she is a stranger and the only adults whose voice hold sway over him are those of the suns of his life. byeee. he chirps in an annoying falsetto after her with a snicker and gives a shake of his head as he turns and lopes further along down the border that passes between the sound and the tangle, flirting on the cusp of scent marker and feral wildlands proving her right: he absolutely does what he wants.