( This is a most delicate bond, one which Elizabeth has sought every opportunity to nurture, just like a flower transplanted into new soil. The sun and water are replaced by letters and kind words, smiles and time spent together. Admittedly, the lattermost of those has been difficult to arrange, due to Lauralae's nomadic lifestyle. But somehow they are managing together to make this work, and this connection forming between them is beginning to blossom. This young woman is one whom has known little kindness, at least of late. Much as had been the case for Elizabeth with the exception of Richard, before she had been sent here.

To be warm and tender toward Lauralae, then is second-nature to her. As easy for her as it is to breathe. Llŷr tosses his head, sending a rain of water droplets shimmering through the air. Gently, she pats his neck and whispers to him soft words of encouragement in order to soothe him. Once it seems to work, she turns her head to look sidelong at her friend for a long moment before fixing her gaze back on the road.

Silence reigns for a long time, in which Elizabeth finds herself enormously at ease. Comfortable, she walks with an easy, graceful gait, slow and steady to match her friend's pace. Her bearing, as always is regal and proud, which means a straight posture, and her head held as high as is Lauralae's. When the Aellyn finally speaks, she laughs softly. )

True enough. I have need of lessons in how to survive in the wilderness without company, I suspect.

( The humour is self-deprecating, but kept light and airy. Her smile comes more easily and holds more warmth than it has in months. Time truly is healing her wounds from earlier in the past year. Llŷr follows close at their heels, as though he prefers to keep close to Elizabeth. )

Then I shall follow wherever you lead. ( Her features soften. ) You look very well, indeed. I am glad of it.