Tiberinus

[Thalia]

She did not disagree, though of course the mind itself was perfectly mutable, and the only way through which it might be perceived. People were often the most skilled with the lies they chose to tell only themselves, for those were often the ones indistinguishable from truth. But Nimeda had no interest in such a debate, especially with the stubborn pillar of faith that was Noctua. Nor did she much favour the solemnity that captured his expression as a result. Her hair spread against the water’s surface, droplets rolling ticklish against the planes of her face. Amusement framed her reaction to the way he looked at her like she was something to be studied. The more familiar her manner, the tighter he closed away, though she was not sure if it was her he shied from, or if it was instead only dogged determination not to relinquish grip on his pensive mood.

His gaze cast once more to the scenery, and Nimeda let her will press out like a rolling tide. They did not shift, but like the transient flickering of a city’s interior, the world around them began to gently flux. The suggestion of architecture imprinted amidst the forest around, translucent amongst the leaves. The ghostly stride of people too, women all. She did not know if it was something unearthed from her own imperfect memory, or if it were instead pulled from the dream’s own long tapestry itself. In the clouds of the waterfall’s spray it looked ethereal, and it faded without ever maintaining permanence. Such triflings were impossible to hold for long.

His words drew her attention with a curious tilt of the head, mostly for the poise with which he waited for a reaction. Idly, the drift of her arms buffeted little waves that spread in ripples out to brush against where he stood imobile as a statue. “Why do you think that?”