There’s little room for vanity when you’re an adventurer, and Octavia didn’t know the last time she’d stopped to study her own reflection. It didn’t matter, surely enough, because she was never meant to settle. There was a spirit in her heart that had a hard time getting attached to anything that wasn’t the land and the wild places. That was what made her feel alive, at least, the adventures. She’d only ever been by herself, but then there was Tristan, standing next to her… well. Well he didn’t seem so bad now that he was older, now that he was less of a weenie. Maybe… maybe. The realm of possibility was a big place, after all.

Fun. Fun was a serious business in her mind, because adventures were fun and adventures were serious business. The wild child’s tail wagged softly, watching Tristan with her bright spiked eyes. “Gypsies? Were they the dangerous sort or the friendly sort?” She’d been with the dangerous ones for a little while, charming her way into the heart of a head raider with a sharp temper. It had been a brief, strange romance that she would rather not revisit—adventure fascinated her, danger did not. Travelling solo had become her poison of choice after that. If Tristan was to ask, the better question would have been where hadn’t she been, but he didn’t. What even was up with boys? Ugh.

Tav laughs softly, shaking so her fur fluffs up. What a boy. “If you must know, I travelled largely on my own, thank you.” There’s a smirk playing on her lips, wry as ever. It fits the dark princess well, and she’s nearly electric about it. Alive and alert, still high off the residual effects of her adventure. “But come on, a handsome boy like you must have found a girl worthf fighting for out there with those… er… gypsies.” Her turn to play on the charming smile, the flick of a tail. Octavia had gotten good at this game, and that was something she wouldn’t be shy about.