[open] and the bravest of faces are the ones where we fake it [any]

[Leilan]

I'm good at seeing but ignoring little signals, and so my practised self doesn't respond in the slightest to Borderline's line of a mouth when some recognition no doubt lingers in my eyes. Thankfully the young mother sparkles a little more when she talks about her daughter, and in that I suppose I've accidentally picked the right topic. Grinning just a little as she tells about Memorie, knowing exactly where her pride comes from, I can't help but already feel like perhaps it's the girl then whom I should ask to occasionally look beyond Taiga's borders with her gift. Though it's likely as not that she'll want to explore more than just the northern lands, maybe it makes for a start that both girl and mother could agree on. "I'd sure like to meet her," I nod when Borderline has finished her speech, "Perhaps when she's old enough she can roam a bit further through Nerine, or she may visit the Isle if she so pleases." The restoration of the cold island has gone slow, and it won't be the same as it once was; it never will be, but perhaps a touch of magic could make it more liveable. Nevertheless, one thing at a time - a growing girl should not be turned into some work force however much a place needs it.

Mentioning that I have some kids running around seems to work in my favour in the same way, but the answer to my question surprises me a little. Not that I wouldn't go through lengths for Lilli as well, just that she doesn't mention the father of her child nor the child herself. There might be some feelings lingering then, or maybe Lilli is just that good. I smile a little thinking of that. "She does that," I have to admit. And I don't know why or how, either. Maybe she's just good as friendships; I know I'm not, so I can't exactly measure it. "It's funny that you mention it though; homes have a tendency of being what we make of it, but somewhere along the way the feeling gets entirely turned around." Now, I'm tied to the icy island in the north as much as it was the only habitat for me to fit into. An odder sort of relationship than most I've ever had in my life.

Straia's point be damned, the land is still alive - just not in the way she wants it to be, I suppose. I muse over that for a moment, falling silent, then giving up; might as well tell Borderline. "I've been asked once what made us different from other lands, what we stand for, she called it. But the more people I ask about why they live in a certain place, the more I think it's the wrong question to ask in the first place." I tilt my head, catching the life between the branches in my eyesight and hearing - birds flying criss-cross through the branches and leaves, squirrels trying to dig for nuts, a woodpecker some ways away. "It's not what the land stands for, it's what we make of it, I guess." I shrug a little, but think she might understand - especially with her floral gifts and all.

Brushing my tail over my hocks to wash away a tiny itch, I follow up. "Though, I suppose Yan is right and we could be more active about it."

there’s an ocean in between your heart and me

@[Borderline]