There is a city stretching to meet the sky, and around it there is nothing to see but sand.
"A traveller. Who are you?"
Did no-one tell this girl not to give her name to strange fairies? Eh, more likely it's a nickname of some kind.
"You can call me Robin. Am I still in the human quarter, or are you out of it?"
"I'm out of it. Are you lost?"
"I'm new to the city. Why are you out of the human quarter?"
"No reason in particular."
Fair enough, but boring. They glance around to see if there's anyone else doing something interesting in the vicinity.
There's no one immediately visible.
"Where did you come from, anyway?"
"Around. I think it was called Underhill in this language."
"I don't think I know anyone from there."
"Maybe they call it something different." They shrug. "What do you call this place?"
"Askalde," they repeat, rolling the vowels around their mouth to savour the shapes.
"Does that mean something in another tongue?"
"It means bright something but I forget what the something is."
What a helpful mortal this is.
It's been too long since Robin changed something about their appearance, and it's starting to itch. They let their magic coil down into themself and tell their hair to start growing feathers, iridescent black like a crow's wings. Unlike an illusion, the magic that changes their body won't happen instantly, but they feel better already for having started.
It only takes a second, and then they're back to paying attention to Senna.
"You should talk to the other fae. I don't think anyone knew there were still fae anywhere else."
"I'm not sure we're the same kind of thing," Robin admits.
"I hear the local kind can't do this." They change the illusion over their skin, letting sunset colours fade to the deep purples and blues of the night sky, then add a scattering of tiny illusion lights for fun.
"Nnnnnope. Pretty, though. --If you're not fae, does that mean they can command you, or does it not count if you're not human?"
"You know, tell you to do things and then it hurts if you don't."
Robin snarls, showing off pointed canines.
"I will find out." And, their tone implies, the fae in question won't like the consequences.
"They're not easy to hurt," Senna says in a tone that implies she would very much like to see one hurt.
"I'll find that out for myself, too," they growl. "Anywhere I should start?"
"That way, there's a short and sort of yellow-ish one. She's--there's a kid with her. I've been trying to help but I haven't been able to get close enough."