When it came to thinking about Achlys, at first he had felt absolutely nothing. Over time, however, he had slowly begun to understand a bittersweet association with her. He retained some form of love for the woman who had whisked him away only to then abandon them, just as she had abandoned those in Glorall. These are mere distracting thoughts that pull away from the present moment, and Eros draws mention of his Mother to a silent close with an equally silent nod. Death, however, receives a more commendable send off. She is with us always. The statement is simple, for he doesn’t feel the need to elaborate to this stranger. The way she speaks is full of knowing, and he is glad that she is the first wolf he’s crossed paths with.

It is when they begin to approach a small meadow that she offers a thought about his assessment of his own lives. Her words are not challenging, but come across more as a reminder, which he knows to be true. This time he does offer more contexts in explanation, for each time he speaks to her the words come easier than the last. You are right. Memories of my first and shortest life are what I’ve held on to. Remembering my second and longest life is less blessing and more curse. And now, for the third? It had been mostly uneventful, though this was surely due to his reclusive behavior and unwillingness to socialize. Perhaps this day was a turning point for him, a way for him to move forward and past the things that haunted him. Eros wondered if such a feat were even possible, or if he was simply getting far too ahead of himself. Determined to ground himself in the present, he offered a question that forced his mind to quiet thoughts of his own past. Have you always known that you will live again?

Wet paws finally come to a pause when they reach the meadow, and he can at last see the wildflowers that bend to the will of the fading rain from above. He can feel her eyes on him, but he keeps his attention on the small flowers smattered before them, for they are small but full of much detail. Her words, however, prove to be far more interesting than the now mundane flowers and intrigue has him lifting his head to evenly meet her gaze. She speaks of the heavens, in regards to death once more, and Eros finds himself fascinated by the onslaught of information. Perhaps if he had been any other, there would be no possible way for him to grasp such an otherworldly concept. As it was, his veins ran thick with his families’ old blood, and the words of the stranger resonated in a truthful manner. You are quite fond of her. His musing comes suddenly and unbidden, and in truth he had not meant to voice the thought a loud. It had simply come from him in a natural manner, to which he had no intention of retracting.

He is surprised by her last inquiry, though it’s less of a question and more of a passing thought. He has no intention of disappointing her, however, and so he introduces himself for the very first time in his current life. My name is Eros. They were only four simple words, but there was an underlying current there that flipped a switch for him. It had been steadily building all along, his natural confidence and ease that made him who he was, even if he did not yet know it. Even the small smile that touched his handsomely scarred features seemed to come naturally, even if the muscles were unfamiliar with the movement. He doesn’t know the last, or first time he had ever smiled, and before the switch can flip back he wants to know the same about her. And you?