The tobiano cannot possibly know her life's story, though he finds it impossible to forget the small parts he has played in her existence. Their first encounter had been almost entirely by chance. He had been so eager to solidify his place in the Lagoon that it hadn't been
her specifically that he was targeting, she had just been the one unlucky enough to be the one in charge of protecting the mare he did catch alone initially. He was sure, of course, that for her, it was a great deal more personal, and he did not blame her for her hatred of him.
Who he had been then, and the things he had prioritized in his early days in the Lagoon felt so far away from who he was now that it was like looking at a stranger's life. He knew what he had done, and remembered the
why's that had felt important at the time, but could not justify them any longer. He had known better before he had ever stepped foot in the Thicket, and yet he had done it anyway.
The same way he had come after her again in the Commons.
The same way he had been drawn to her again, later, desperate to lose his grief and self-loathing in the fires of her anger, only to walk away with more reasons to despise himself.
Though they had hardly shared a civil word in their checkered history, Rehoboam would wager that Titania knew him better than almost anyone still on the isles. Better, even, than Azizi who still believed him a better man than he could ever truly be. It was fitting for her to greet him with barely disguised venom in her words, each syllable a promise of violence once she grew tired of playing with him.
You smell different, she spat, and he tried to redirect her, offering a reply that was lighthearted despite the fact that the smile did not reach his eyes.
"I bathed." That, of course, did not deter the astute little mare. Without batting an eye she clocked his homelessness and he let his soaking wet tail flop against his fetlocks in silent answer at first.
"Something like that." He murmured after a moment, not seeing the point of trying to explain his exodus from the Lagoon. If he tried, he would have to explain how he'd been working to try and improve the Lagoon from the sort of men she knew them to be, and he doubted that Titania would believe him. He'd given her precious little reason to trust him thus far. Still, he cannot hide the weariness even in his apathetic agreement and so resolves to do better, shifting his position so he is as out of her way as is possible in the small area she's claimed for herself and attempting to portray a sense of nonchalance he did not feel.
"Why is it you keep coming back, wildcat?" He didn't know if she remembered his name from their disastrous meeting in the Commons, but they hadn't really had time to exchange words at their last encounter either. Fighting didn't exactly leave space for speaking, and by the time he got close enough to want to talk, his mind had been infinitely preoccupied by
other, more delightful things.
"Still searching for the girl?"
It struck him suddenly, that perhaps he could help her, if that was her purpose. He didn't remember the name she'd been calling when he'd found her all those years ago, but he did remember that she'd been looking for her daughter. A daughter she shared with Rougaru, if he remembered the gist of the conversation right before Kolfinna's presence had made him bolt into the shadows again.
A different question hovers on his tongue, but he cages it, forcing himself to bide his time before he asks about their child. If they existed. If they'd lived. If they were here. If they knew him. If he could meet them. At least with Osiris and Tendaji and Rhaenys, he'd at least
known of them. Had known their names and their faces, even if he'd been unable to do anything with that information. Titania's fairy child remained a nebulous maybe that had set talons into his heart the moment they had parted.