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"You're staring off into nothingness again."
The soft voice of the druid startled the fallen psychiatrist from her thoughts, her gaze darting away from the river to look at the woman.
As poised as ever, Druvis III looked the absolute picture of a high society lady. But Kakania knew that if her gaze drifted lower than her face, she would likely see a pair of heels dangling from the woman's hands.
The Wilderness within the Timekeeper's suitcase seemed to be an ever changing thing. One day it had looked like her fallen city of Vienna, another had it take on the appearance of a frozen tundra.
Today, it was a forest with rivers and a lake, a fog clinging to the ground and obscuring anything in the distance. She had heard one other arcanist, Horropedia, if memory served correctly, compare the current layout to something called Camp Green Lake.
Definitely a location placed after her era, she thought.
"Sorry. Was someone looking for me? Or did I just look lost to you?" she asked, keeping her eyes on the woman as she approached. She watched Druvis kneel down to sit at the edge of the river. Upon closer inspection, Kakania saw how underdressed she seemed, her eyes nearly drinking in the sight of the druid's exposed collarbones, the hint of her breasts beneath the fabric of her dress and-
"If you don't hold on, the wind will blow it all away," Druvis said, interrupting the sinful thoughts that had begun to plague Kakania.
Not sinful about Druvis, but still sinful in their own way when it came to a certain nightingale.
"Ah. . . Blow what away, Ms. Druvis?" Kakania wasn't sure what the other was implying. There was no wind in the Wilderness today, though the weather could change in an instant. "I'm not sure I-"
"Paint drips and stains, yet if you wash it away, you can still find the beauty you sought after, no?" Druvis looked at her, something in her gaze making Kakania's blood run cold. "You're scared to forgive her and let her know your feelings. Feelings that she hasn't once hidden from you."
Kakania swallowed, lowering her gaze, the scar on her palm throbbing. She could still feel her teeth sinking in and breaking skin, could still feel her weight and warmth in her arms and against her form as she convulsed, trusting her so deeply, so wonderfully.
"I. . ."
Druvis chuckled, reaching out now to brush her fingers against the water's surface, watching the ripples that formed.
"I once believed those honeyed words. They knew just what to say to me. . . But she showed me a light that no one else could. She was like a gentle breeze dancing through the leaves."
Kakania stared, in awe at the tale. She knew that Druvis had nearly sided with the Manus, only to abandon them and join the Timekeeper. She had seen the looks they shared, had once witnessed an encounter that no one else should have seen.
It had made the green razor wish to have such an encounter with her musical spectre.
"If you let this grow between you and fester. . . You risk losing her. Your golden circle."
Druvis listened as hurried footsteps pounded away across the forest floor, laying along the riverbank, fingers still dancing along the water. She sensed someone come up beside her and sit next to her.
"Timekeeper."
"Why did I just see Kakania running like her life depended on it?" Vertin asked, her fingers moving to run through red strands, stroking the druid's head.
"Because it does. Is the opera singer's room still unlocked?"
"Ah." So that's what this was about then.
Clueless to the Timekeeper's appearance, Kakania tore her way out of the Wilderness, her hat flying from her head, the broach upon her jacket's lapel catching in the lights of the suitcase's hallway.
She felt like she was going mad; perhaps her father had been right about that. But she didn't, her ears catching a familiar aria, her heart beating in tune with it.
Standing there, emerging from her room was-
"Isolde."
The nightingale turned, smiling brightly.
"Doctor!"