Broken Antler Fen Indigo

His whole life, Tambourine hadn't bothered with surnames, although he was immediately tempted to go with this woman's spontaneous suggestion. He snorted, his eyes flicking upward toward her face for the first time, just for a glimpse of this silver-tongued storyteller as she spoke of enchanted forests, dragons, fairies and... what was a poltergeist?

"Gesundheit," he offered, realizing his gaze was lingering on her apple green eyes for a moment too long. He dropped his own, staring at the ground now and missing her playful offer even as he thought, Can it be...? Tambourine did catch one word: her name. That more or less started with an "R," at least phonetically.

"Wraen?" he repeated wonderingly, raising his eyes again but being careful not to look too directly at her. "Did you used to live on a mountain called, um... Moon... Moons... something?"