We walked silently for a while, and Azlyn seemed lost in thought. I scanned the trees around us and took note of a nymph darting from tree to tree hiding from her satyr. She had the deep emerald skin that was the token of her people and long, stark-white hair that framed her body wildly. Unlike most nymphs, who wandered the forest in only their bare skin, she was clad in a flimsy two piece outfit that concealed her most delicate features.
I tried to approach her, but she darted up her host tree, her red eyes blazing back at me. She tilted her head and I felt her gaze blaze through me. I had always been told that Nymphs were dull in the head, but the eyes of this one reflected something else. A curiosity about me that implied a deeper intelligence.
I was startled when she spoke.
“Be careful with this one, Azlyn,” she crooked her head toward him. “You know from what line she branches.” It was a riddle to me, but Azlyn seemed to understand, for he nodded.
“I am aware of the risk, thank you, Sapphire,” he said curtly, his lips forming a thin straight line. Then he added, “Nykolas sends his regards.”
The Nymph blinked rapidly and tilted her head the opposite direction, as if waiting to form some sort of reaction to his words. Then she shrugged and darted the rest of the way up her tree, disappearing into its boughs.
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