Khalida crosses her arms. “Shoot.”

Asa grins. “Why thank you. Your the host of the god of wind, right? So does that mean you can fly?”

“Interesting,” Layla says softly as one finger traces the path from his right arm and the other hand traces the path from his left arm, meeting on his heart. “You’ve never broken a promise?”

A young dryad sings to herself as she walks around. She stops when she feels someone watching her, and she looks around. “Who’s there?”