Sirka was expecting a great deal of things to be lurking behind the corner. A human child, an elven child, goblins, to something as ridiculous as a chimera centaur. And all of them would've gotten the same treatment, a molten hot fireball to their face. But what pounced at her instead far exceeded her expectations. Sirka was speechless, frozen really, as the other woman collided with her, sending the two tumbling across the hard cobblestone road. All thought of the apparent trap disappeared as Sirka finally came rolling to an end, the other woman resting on top of her. There was no doubt about it, what she had suspected just a few seconds earlier was true... Another Fire Nymph!<br/><br/>Dumbfounded, Sirka simply stared at the strange woman, her brain trying desperately to try and process the current events. Fire Nymphs were hardly unsocial creatures, if they could, they'd happily live together, but their rather unique way of coming into this world meant it was nearly impossible for them to get together. Add to that their small numbers, and you had a race that could live their entire life without ever meeting one of their own kind. Sirka had often wondered how other Fire Nymphs would behave, did they think the same way? Did they also struggle to understand how society worked? A kindred spirit. Given how low the chances were of her ever coming across one of her own, Sirka had all but abandoned that hope.<br/><br/>Yet here was one now, gleaming in the dark like a beautiful star. Logic made way for disbelieve and soon followed up by joy, all previous thought on this trap evaporating like snow before a fire.<b>"You... You're..."</b>She stammered, slowly sliding her fingers across the strangers runes. The runic symbols were an old language, now long forgotten, even by the ageless Elves. It was a language from the<i>time before</i>, back when Nymphs of all kind were numerous and the world was their plaything. Each Nymph was born with their name, and only they still possessed the knowledge to read it, though even that was slowly eroding with every generation. In a couple of hundred years, this knowledge would probably be forgotten as well.<br/><br/>The strangers symbols spoke clearly to Sirka, as easy as you and I would read our own name.<b>"&lt;Kindled Heart&gt;"</b>Sirka cooed, softly tracing the glowing runes with her fingers. Phonetically, someone would hear the name Raza, though this was not as Sirka interpreted it. Sirka was quick to embrace the woman, squeezing her tightly.<b>"N-no! I'm real! I... Who... H-how'd you get here?"</b>She stammered, as a million questions each vied for dominance in her head.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>