Ouroboros Spine yn rhedeg mewn cylchoedd

His eyes widen slightly in intrigue at her remarks. He wouldn't have pegged her as a healer--huntress or scout was his best guess--but she did have a caring nature about her that usually lent itself well to tending patients. His lips curve in the faintest of smiles, and he dips his head to her in quiet acquiescence, putting away this information for potential use if--when?--needed.

"Perhaps it will be me seeking you out, and not the other way around," he responds, eyes warming with humor--not quite the icy orbs they had been, upon her greeting. Speedy has won him over; it is painted clear as day over his face. It is with some reluctance, then, that he realizes some time has passed since they began their conversation, the day grows long, and he is not in the habit of extended sightseeing tours. The valley is beautiful enough, but he must move on.

The prince blinks softly at her. "I must go," he says, tone succinct but kind. "I hope we can find each other again, sooner rather than later." There is apology written over his face for his abrupt exit, yet he believes she will understand. She is a wanderer, too--and they both likely know that idle paws make a dull brain. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Speedy. Hwyl fawr."

With quiet steps, he pads away from the edge, careful not to lose his footing, and begins to pick his way down the mountain;

Stealing one last look over his shoulder at the girl he leaves behind.