Every warning. His sad smile twinged, thoughtful. Did it inspire him, that she was brave enough to ignore centuries of warnings? Or worry him, that she could be smitten beyond her senses? Maybe a bit of both, if he was being honest.

Did she understand what she asked for?
She couldn't possibly.

Would the practice feel different from the fantasy?
Didn't it always!

She claimed to trust him. But could he trust her? With an abundance of lifetimes under his proverbial belt, Rivers didn't have to think quite so long about it as a younger fae would have (to be fair, a younger fae would have been unlikely to try thinking about it at all.)

True, leaps of faith weren't generally good starts to lengthy romantic endeavors. Flash fires, burning hot and hard and — brief, even by mortal standards. But there was nothing quite like the whirlwind of them.

And for his part? A hundred hundred lovers, and each had been unique in their own way. Treasured, uniquely. Remembered. For an hour or a day or a lifetime, if the thought of him warmed, her, the rest of him he was willing to offer in kind.

She hoped to catch a star. She'd fallen from the sky like one, so he supposed she had little reason to think it impossible! If she wanted the risk, if she liked that, he wouldn't be the one to tell her no!

In fact, he was about to tell her yes, when Elaine's body flared a bright and brilliant blue. Shapes rippled across her form, and Rivers blinked. Magic didn't frighten him — not being born of it, certainly. But this was... new. He started to sit upright, wincing at his paw, and shifted weight to ease the burden.

Easy Snowbird, you're... Head cocked, Well, you're glowin'! But not fadin' or burnin' up. It's not like to be harmful to ye.

The marks, though difficult to focus on or make sense of, remained familiar. At the tree — we were surrounded by magic. Strong magic. Left it's mark on you. Like the rune we found.

His frown tilted into a grin, It's pretty, s'what it is.