Nayru had never lost her attention to detail. Every movement was recorded and so if it seemed that the fairy queen hadn’t noticed his offer of an embrace, Saluce had known that it had not gone unnoticed. And likewise Nayru saw the eyes, the arms, as both became crestfallen. The man before her clung to ideas and images of the past, those who had come before and those who would never return and also those who just weren’t the same as they once were. Certainly he believed Nayru not to be the same as she once was. Nayru knew this, but she could not always understand it. Nayru knew that all that truly mattered was the present, the here and now. Here they stood together and in many ways with nothing lost or changed between them. Yet the beastly man did not believe in nothing lost or that nothing had changed. Nayru realized this and with this realization she moved forward and placed a tiny hand upon the man shoulder.
"Me? I am…" Still her hand resting easily upon his shoulder, turned her eyes up towards the heavens as if seeking an answer to a complicated question. "Why, I am fine of course." It seemed as if the answer was so, because the girl if anything was resilient. When something shook her she stood her ground, and what did manage to knock her down never kept her there long. "Much has happened in your absence though," she knew the man was hungry for these details and did not mind sharing them. "There is war to the south, and for once our pack is not a part of it." Nayru spoke this with pride, for although she yearned for peace all over it was a relief for the name of her home not to be tarnished with reputations of blood lust. "Gideon and I celebrated our mateship a few moon cycles ago. I buried it officially at Samhain." Her mind fleetingly went over the whole affair, how formal their coming together had been and how easy it had been then to break apart. "Eclipse is missing, again, and I know it is not my place in this life to track her down and drag her back, but… she’s gone again." The girl was all that was left of Conor and Bris, and even though Nayru would not cling to the dead ghost she could cling to a living girl, but only for a short time before she too had to be written off.
There had been, of course more, but Nayru could not continue with her list of all that had transpired in the man’s absence. At one time he would have been the first to know of her kill, the way she had let loose the life of another being, but for now she kept the reserved, it was not a conversation opener. And she thought of telling him how they had worked so hard at Cerne Rise, how she had cleared the gardens and now they withered unless Melee tended to them perhaps, but she did not go home to check. That was not home any longer. Nayru almost told him of the vineyards, how plentiful they had been despite their relocation and the rough start and the bottles and bottles of wine they now had. Yet she had said enough, and before she could say more or ask after him she had to let him digest the events she had thrown out to him. Finally she withdrew her hand and let it drop by her side.