She prefers him this way though. Were he to be glossy and smooth and charming, it would be off-putting. She preferred that he was rough around the edges and quiet and deliberate in his words and his actions. It was soothing to be around someone who was like her in that regard; someone who did not play games and who did not try to deceive. She was fascinated by the conversations around her and the way that the souls of Beqanna seemed to ebb and flow—but she would be exhausted to spend too much time with them. No, she much preferred the simplistic complexity of him.
She could at least understand that.
They walk through the portal together, and she breathes easier when they are on the other side, feeling the tightness in her chest loosen when she is no longer so close to the flames. She could make this a home if it was Rhonan’s home, but that did not mean she would love it. In truth, Anastasia was not sure that she would ever be capable of loving the way these souls seemed to love. It was foreign to her.
He asks if she wanted to see the rest of the kingdom, and she answers by following along him. Words were not exactly her strong suit, and she would not bother with them if she didn’t have to. Instead, she turned her sharp yellow eyes to the land around them, noting the dips and crevices in the land. In some small part of her mind, she was studying it, memorizing the way that it folded and unfolded. It would be useful to understand how to hunt there. Finally, she just nods. “Okay.”
This land would be okay. The home would be okay.
In his own way, he would be okay to her too.
like the moon, we borrow our light
{I am nothing but a shadow in the night}