If only it were acceptance. Arj would rather be anywhere than here, but if the tree wants something of him, then he'll take on any task imaginable. Whether or not he's any good at it.

"My name is Arj," he says, "and I am from Clan Aauron in the Heshroun Basin." There it is again, that word that sounds like Ryll in his head, as if his home was only one of many and not all that is. "From Ryll. The Ryll."

But what was that she'd said earlier? "Flying?" He takes note of the translucent butterfly wings on Celena's back. "I don't think I can-"

He stops. It didn't occur to him that the butterfly wings weren't a natural part of her body, any more than... "One moment." He digs through the leaf saddlebags on his back, and takes out the gem he found earlier, the dark blue one. He knows he's found it as soon as a pair of moth wings appear on his shoulders, folded neatly on his back. He keeps the stone in one paw so that he's standing on three legs. "These things work?"