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For a moment, he said nothing and only watched her approach, heeding his beckon with little thought. The wind combed through the grass and caught faintly in his mane, the morning light running soft gold over the edges of his silhouette as he waited for her to approach.

Then, he laughed. Quietly and low in his throat. The kind of sound that could’ve been mistaken for a sigh if not for the faint curl at his lips.

你會說母語嗎？ (You speak the mother tongue?) he murmured, the old tongue falling from his mouth like something precious and half-forgotten. Treasured compared to his rough common. His gaze sharpened as it settled on her, studying her with a depth that spoke more of appraisal than any true recognition. 要想到我會在這裡找到屬於自己的東西，在一個如此遙遠於我昔日統治的星辰之地。 (To think I would find one of my own here, in a place so far from the stars I once ruled beneath.).

He moved forward a pace, unhurried, as he closed the distance between them. 蜂蜜草甸, (Honey meadow) he repeated, eyes sweeping across the quiet meadow while keeping her in his peripheral vision. 你怎麼會在這裡？你也醒了嗎？ (How are you here? Did you wake too?) His gaze cut back to her, a flicker of faint amusement beneath his calm.

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