[ he makes a musing noise as he cuts a slice of apple for himself, settling more fully against the stone. for a few moments, he's silent, as if he's mentally translating. ] It doesn't translate especially well into this tongue. [ he presses the slice of apple to his mouth as if he's going to take a bite, then pauses. ] The place.. mm.. 'the place where the sky was held back' is closest, perhaps. [ he finally pops the apple piece between his lips, chewing thoughtfully as he glances down into the courtyard.

at last, he frowns. ] Generations and generations, and each new one less recognizable than the one before. [ after all that was done to save them-- in the end, had it amounted to nothing? between the humans and their own ignorance, what remains of the people is all but extinct. (it offends him to see them wearing vallaslin so proudly. they have no idea--)

he distracts himself from the ugly thought by turning his attention back to the stranger. ] My name is Abelas. What shall I call you?