[b]I’m fine.[/b] Ghent wasn’t sure why he bothered asking, he predicted Elayra’s answer before she said it. He sighed softly to himself, stilling his tongue. If he asked again she’d probably get mad.
	“If you’re sure.” Ghent decided it was a safe response. He returned his attention to the river, unsure what to say next. An apology was probably in order, but the words felt stuck in his throat. Apologizing was admitting he’d been wrong, and he didn’t really want to do that.
	Elayra was the one to put aside her pride first. Ghent was surprised to hear his name leave her mouth, an occurrence that didn’t happen often.
	“You’re…” Ghent began, but she threw in a quick jab before he could finish. “…Welcome.” He finished, grimacing slightly. He didn't protest, though. Answering to Featherhead was a small price to pay for his blunder.
	The boy fell silent, watching as Elayra rose. He readied himself to spring up if she started to collapse, but she maintained her balance. Maybe she would be fine.
	Elayra began talking again, mentioning the monsters by name.
	[i]Terraflames.[/i] More monsters courtesy of Wonderland. The explanation behind the beasts basically confirmed Ghent’s suspicion that his prank led to the ambush. 
	Still sitting, Ghent turned his body slightly to look at Elayra as she spoke. His brows raised at the mention of the terraflames being kept as pets, an image difficult to visualize after what he’d seen of the beasts. He was further surprised to hear they were docile and actually served a purpose at one point in time. 
	It was strange to think that Wonderland may have once been full of wonder, rather than full of death and suffering.
	Ghent returned his gaze to the river, experiencing an odd sense of loss. At one point, Wonderland had been his home. [i]Their[/i] home. And now…
	He looked to his hands, catching the resentment in Elayra’s words. [i]Happy.[/i] She could barely speak the word without sounding bitter, and he couldn't blame her. The way Wonderland was now was all she knew. He barely survived two days, she survived fourteen years. 
	[i]Great…[/i] Ghent tugged at a sprig of grass, drops of water still dripping from his hair. [i]Now I feel guilty.[/i]
	"We have pet rocks on Earth too," Ghent tried to ease his conscience with a joke, but his voice came out flat. He continued pulling at the grass, listening as Elayra elaborated a little more.
	[b]Mount Crone.[/b] Ghent didn't recognize the name. He looked to the girl inquisitively as she dug through her pack, but she didn't elaborate.
	“I’ll guard our stuff,” Ghent offered, realizing she likely wanted to change into dry clothes before he bombarded her with questions. He took a breath, glancing sideways. 
	“And, uh…” Ghent reached to rub the back of his neck out of habit, the stinging marks warning him against the action. “Sorry. For being a pain in the…er…” he paused a second time, making the apology much more awkward than necessary. “For being a Featherhead.”