It took Evola hours to realize that her bond had disappeared, she'd been so involved in talking with her mother. Actually, she'd tried to ask him a question-- and actually waited for the answer, instead of just answering the question herself and bareling on. When there wasn't one, she had looked over at the seat he'd occupied before, and had been surprised to see it empty.

"Now where did he get off to?" her mother had wondered. She'd brushed off Evola's apology, saying they boys needed to be alone sometimes, but with the order that she be sure to bring him to dinner the following night when the whole family would be there, including Evoli, so that she could actually converse with him. With that, she'd taken her leave of Evola, heading for the Air cathedral and her appointment with the high aer'vennae there, and Evola hurried off to see where her favorite human had disappeared to.

She found him drifting back to the bonding complex, deep in thought and very distracted, but at least not moody. Coming up behind him, she shifted into her smaller, human body and slipped an arm through his. He didn't start, as if-- which was probably the case-- he knew she was there. They tended to be aware of each other, if they were close, unless one was horribly distracted. Riyikith did seem very distracted, but somehow he managed to notice her, anyway. The thought made her smile, a warm, content feeling bubbling up inside and making it hard to be annoyed with him, like she wanted to be.

"I'm sorry I slipped out like that," he said, before she'd even said anything-- she'd just had her mouth open to start, actually.

As she closed her mouth, momentarily speechless as what she'd planned to say was now no longer appropriate, Evola looked over at him. He wasn't looking at her, but he was smirking a bit, which meant he knew just what he'd done. She giggled and punched his shoulder lightly. "You!" she exclaimed, about the worst "insult" she could think up on short notice.

"Me," Riyikith agreed, giving a coil of her hair a playful little flip. Whatever he'd done after he'd escaped Evola and her mother, it had cured his melancholy, and though he was still thoughtful, it was not a sad kind of thoughtful.

"But why did you, anyway?" Evola asked. "Were we boring you?"

"No, that wasn't it." At her disbelieving scowl, he grinned. "Maybe a little. But mostly, I just needed a little time by myself."

"Maybe I should give you more of those," Evola mused. "You come back much happier. I couldn't even get a grin out of you, before, and I'd actually been trying, then!"

"Well, it did kind of help," Riyikith answered, drawing back a little from the conversation, mentally, though he didn't withdraw his arm from her grasp. Evola looked sharply at him; something more than "alone time" had happened, he just wasn't talking about it yet. She hated when he did that. She let him be silent and thoughtful all the way up the stairs and partway down the walk to the nearest entrance to Sanctuary's dome, but though she focused intently on him, he didn't let her have even a hint of what had so captured his attention. What was worse, she could tell he didn't really have a reason to keep it from her, he was just doing it to be perverse-- and to annoy her.

Well, it was working! ::Riyikiiiiiiith,:: she complained at him silently, but she was answered with nothing but a burst of amusement. ::It can't be that important, can it? Come on, you know you're just being difficult-- tell me!::

"Well, partly," he admitted aloud, "but it's not just that. I'm not sure what you'll think."

"You didn't do anything wrong, did you?" she asked, not quite able to believe that he could have, but not sure why else he would be reluctant to tell her.

"Of course not," Riyikith snorted. "Did you think I would have?"

"Well, no," she said, her turn to have to admit. "But I didn't know why else you wouldn't tell me. Except to be annoying."

"Mostly to be annoying," Riyikith agreed, "but if it's so important to you to know, I guess I'll just have to say, won't I?"

"I won't leave you alone until you do," she promised.

"You won't leave me alone, anyway," he teased, and she pouted at him. Laughing, he turned them down the street that led to their apartment. "All right, I was talking to a tree."

"A tree," she repeated, blinking at him. Despite his amusement, he was telling the truth. "And did it talk back?" she asked, not at all seriously.

"Actually, yes. It had a horrible accent in common, though; worse than mine."

If not for their link saying he was telling the truth, as he saw it, Evola would have thought he'd been teasing her again. As it was, she gave him a skeptical look and had to wonder if he'd been hearing things. "Trees don't talk, Riyikith," she accused him.

"This one did," he answered with a shrug and a grin, and they turned into the stairs of their apartment building, climbing slowly. "Let me explain. You know how daemons change so much, right? To look like other species?"

"Yes," she said, nodding but unsure what he was getting at.

"Well, this one, and his whole clan, had altered themselves to look like trees." He opened the door to their apartment while she snorted disbelief. "Honest to God, Evvie, it was a tree-daemon."

"A tree-daemon," she repeated.

"That's why I didn't know what you'd think. Since he was a daemon, and all."

"Well, I... guess I don't need to worry. It can't steal magic from you if you don't have any, and I would have known if it tried to kill you, or anything...."

"I don't think daemons are really as interested in stealing magic or killing people as dragons seem to think," Riyikith commented mildly, though she could feel his disapproval and cringed a bit.

"I don't know why I thought that," she said softly. "I guess... that's just what everybody says."

"Sometimes, little girl," Riyikith said, holding the door to the apartment for her, "everybody is wrong."