Eryndel
Character
The market thrived like a living organism—vibrant colors blooming from every stall, voices weaving into a ceaseless hum, and the scent of sweet grain-cakes drifting through warm air. Travelers brushed past one another, each caught in their own purpose. Yet Eryndel moved with quiet grace, every step measured, like a breeze slipping through branches rather than boots over stone.
She had come to observe and to learn. That was what envoys of the Kiir did best—listen to the world and let it speak.
But something else called her attention. A presence. Familiar—not in memory, but in essence. The way another heartbeat in the crowd echoed her own rhythm.
Her hand paused above a basket of preserved fruits, her gaze drifting—until it found the source—another Kiir.
You didn't see many beyond the groves. To find one here, among durasteel vendors and neon signs… it stirred a quiet, reflexive warmth inside her chest. Their eyes met—recognition of kin without names.
Eryndel stepped closer, careful not to intrude but unable to ignore what fate had placed before her. Her voice was soft, airy like leaves stirred by the wind.
"Kiir…" A small, genuine smile touched her features. "It is rare to see one of our kind so far from the old roots."
She inclined her head respectfully, tail shifting with curiosity rather than defense.
"I am called Eryndel. May I ask from which grove your path began?"
The market's noise continued around them, but for this moment, the world had narrowed to just two branches discovering they once belonged to the same tree.
			
 
		 Zaytee
			
			She had come to observe and to learn. That was what envoys of the Kiir did best—listen to the world and let it speak.
But something else called her attention. A presence. Familiar—not in memory, but in essence. The way another heartbeat in the crowd echoed her own rhythm.
Her hand paused above a basket of preserved fruits, her gaze drifting—until it found the source—another Kiir.
You didn't see many beyond the groves. To find one here, among durasteel vendors and neon signs… it stirred a quiet, reflexive warmth inside her chest. Their eyes met—recognition of kin without names.
Eryndel stepped closer, careful not to intrude but unable to ignore what fate had placed before her. Her voice was soft, airy like leaves stirred by the wind.
"Kiir…" A small, genuine smile touched her features. "It is rare to see one of our kind so far from the old roots."
She inclined her head respectfully, tail shifting with curiosity rather than defense.
"I am called Eryndel. May I ask from which grove your path began?"
The market's noise continued around them, but for this moment, the world had narrowed to just two branches discovering they once belonged to the same tree.