As her note of greeting rang between them, Apple thought she might wilt and die right there on the spot like some poor neglected flower bending beneath its own weight. She wanted to ask herself when things had gotten so complicated, but the truth was, she already knew. She'd never forget the smell of bear, the gristly hair of a boar, or the impossibly sharp claws of a lynx. She'd never forget the fear they impressed on her, the hopelessness they'd replaced her spark with, the distrust of not just them, but everyone that had been planted within such a sweet, happy soul.

Apple met the ringed eyes of the stranger with trepidation, but offered a faint smile upon greeting. The greeting was thick and foreign and interesting, and the Duchess' smile widened in genuine interest.

Warm day to you, she returned with a dip of her own head (neither so deep or for so long), the strange words sounding fierce and kind alike. Phoenix Rising was her name, and what a name!

I'm Apple Islanzadi Dusk, she returned, Duchess of the budding Dusk Kingdom.

She lifted a paw to motion towards the Falls, eyes glimmering with pride. This was the first time anyone had really acknowledged that there was something growing here, and it was the first time she'd spoken the words aloud to a stranger.