anyone;

[magnus]

— find what you love and let it kill you —

Nerine had been one of his more anticipated future trips. He had heard mention of it in the Field—first by Celeana who had snarled at him as if he had murdered her own kins and then by Naga who had been more graceful, although quick to jump the gun when it came to recruiting. Still, his appetite for knowledge had not been quenched. The Amazons had been his first family, the Jungle his first home. While it had been years since he had felt the vines upon his back, the love he had for them was deep-rooted, eternal.

He needed to know that they were safe.

Of course, he has no way of knowing Nayl’s origins, other than the smell of saltwater and brine which was far more commonplace than before (Nerine, Ischia, Tephra, and even Pangea were now bordered by the sea) and it would have been impossible to discern. Especially having never been there before.

Still, she was a visitor, clearly, as she stood near their as-of-now undefined borders, and he respected the tradition that called for him to venture toward her. “Hello,” he greeted warmly as he neared her, the water lapping around his hooves, the heavy air resting upon the curve of his muscular back. “Welcome to Tephra.” He glanced around them, to the lush land, the vegetation thick, glossy with humidity.

Looking back to her, he dipped his head, expression neutral but friendly, his smile rising crookedly. “My name is Magnus.” Perhaps it was expected to identify himself as the leader of the land, but he had not done so when he was King and certainly felt no need to do so now. He was more guardian than King here, more shepherd and watchdog than royalty. “Can I help you with something?”

magnus