Nature and Nurture are both core parts of the nymph's being, even without their magic, that passive support came more naturally than anything else.

With a careful nod, Fran rested back on the grass, finally letting go of Ariadne's hand to pick up what was left of their apple once again, biting off everything but the core to plant later. She had only just started before they were rapt with attention, eyes slowly widening and listening carefully.

Short and sweet, if you had an odd definition of sweet. But despite the tone, a wide smile never left Fran's lips. When she finishes, they simply beam and nod a couple enthusiastic times.

"That was lovely! Is the Prince of Fire some sort of legend of your people?" The name implied it, at least.