Tiberinus

[Thalia]

With a scrunch to her nose, Nimeda wondered why he would choose to taste such a thing, but she said nothing, only looked out across the water as he gestured to its sluggish current.

“There is nowhere here I do not go.” The tilt of her lips took on a decidedly impish cast. Though she had woken with a pall of melancholy to her mood, the glitter of her expression now appeared to have shaken it loose. Indeed, her curiosity was a thing that knew no boundaries, even that of her own disinclination. Nimeda shared such secrets with visitors when they lingered long enough for the adventure of exploration, and she knew many wondrous places in this realm to show them, but Noctua was the only one who had ever thought to offer a similar gift in return. It was the memory of the gardens he shared that lightened her now. A twist of her fingers brought the marked stone idly into her grip, and her thumb traced the engraving there. Straight down, straight across. She wondered what it meant.

“Cities rise and fall and rise again. Their innards shift and writhe. And they remind me I am alone.” She offered it in explanation, not in sadness, the latter being the main reason for her apathy towards them, for they were a glimpse into a world to which she had little connection. Such places were not intended to be so void as they inevitably were in the dream; it made them feel more like graveyards to her. But she thought about his words as her gaze took in the cityscape, and peered anew. “Is this one yours?” Inquisitiveness pulled the currents in her tone. Perhaps the slow turn towards endings threatened something he loved. She was not sure, for his imperious expression seldom gave anything away. Her attention moved back to him, and the storminess she saw now, which nonetheless did not deter the eager question which spilled next. “Will you show me?”