Yuka rose to her feet, in the same motion turning away from the brilliant blue of the shimmering pond and towards the equally brilliant green foliage that surrounded it at a safe distance. The… whatever it was that Nicolai had entered into… deafeningly disturbed the tranquillity as it manoeuvred to where Cael stood. Crudely but carefully it extended a viciously clawed appendage; the gesture minded Yuka of a shy man attempting to shake hands, although in this case she felt that Cael might have preferred the warsuit to not have been quite so intimidating. The subtle annoyance in Nicolai’s voice as he explained his words only served to pique her slightly in turn, but she kept her face impassive and her hands folded neatly upon the staff that she held, knowing better than to let the emotion show.

The rusty red of the warsuit hurt her eyes, harsh reminder of the barren desolation of the underworld she had been trapped in for so long. Instead she averted her gaze once more, this time to the skies overhead. Her keen sight spied a lone bird soaring high upon the thermals, its wings spread wide as it journeyed its destiny from horizon to horizon. Always seeking, never finding… Yuka murmured, recalling the tanka about the eagle that wanted to know what lay beyond the rim of the world. Her mind was struck by a strangely bittersweet sensation, and the young woman wondered if the long-lost poet had experienced something similar when he or she had first composed the lines.

Yuka shook her head vigorously to clear it of the fugue, savouring the feel of her dark fine hair catching the cool breeze. Largely ignoring the conversation behind her, she cast her eyes upon her surroundings, searching for something, anything, that could provide her with a clue as to their precise location upon Althanas. Her feet began to pace slowly around the edge of the pool of water, her steps as light and sure as her wits were observant.

A measured tread took her eventually to the far side of the pond, where at length she caught sight of a foreign splash of colour amongst the shrubbery. Her straight locks spilling into her face as she bent forward, a closer look revealed a bright yellow flower of a variety that she had never seen before, neither in Nippon nor in Salvar, and certainly not in Haidia. She peered at it curiously, wrinkling her nose and furrowing her brow as she sought to identify any characteristic that could help her narrow her location. Unfortunately, botany had never been one of her strong suits.

Sensing an opening in the conversation, she turned back towards the warsuit and the pale man who stood before it, her robes flowing clumsily about her ankles. The motion felt oddly peculiar; she would have felt more comfortable in tunic and trousers, except that they had seemed far too informal for the occasion compared to what some of the other guests at the inn had been wearing.

“So, what do you think this place is?” Yuka asked of her companions, her voice echoing unnaturally loud across the clear waters. Free of her initial hesitation, it took on an almost boyish sub-tone, and inwardly she cringed at how brash it sounded.