"I mean, I don't know that it's your business just because you're from a country? Do you have any other reasons to want to know what I'm up to?"

"I have some reasons to want to know what Leareth is up to. Since, er, he was going to invade my kingdom. I don't know if he mentioned that part to you." 

"My understanding is that he is not currently planning to do that but I don't, like, have lie-detection magic."

"You don't? Huh. I do. Not that that really helps or anything." Woodlark rubs at his shoulder. "I think I'd feel more reassured if I knew what he was planning to do now, and why, what actually changed." 

"Well, since you're the one with lie detection magic, maybe you should ask him? Would you even believe me if I told you something?"

"I mean, I could do a first level Truth spell on you and then I'd believe you that he said it. Not necessarily that he was telling the truth. Is he even willing to talk to me in person?" 

"I don't have a message for you from him! He didn't say 'hey Promise, by the way, when you go heal injured Tayledras, please be sure to to find Woodlark and let him know thus and such'!"

"...Right, of course not. I, um." He carefully doesn't glance over at Moondance. "Can you convey a message or something." 

"Sure. A letter or just something you'd like me to relay?"

"I can write a letter, if you don't mind waiting five minutes?" 

"Five minutes is fine."

"I'll be right back." Woodlark darts off. 

Moondance frowns at her. "Do you trust this man, Leareth?" 

"When I landed," she says, "by my happy accident, which he did not cause or anticipate, I was a complete stranger and also injured, helpless, vulnerable, and terrified. Leareth's people at his direction collected me and did their best to help me and in the course of so doing acquired considerable leverage over me which they have not used, gone well out of their way to retrieve something precious to me, provided me with plenty of space to recover from the previous phase of my life, and gave me this," she taps her Thoughtsensing shield talisman, "as soon as I indicated my discomfort with mindreading. If you don't like him because the Star-Eyed doesn't I regret to inform you that my impression of her was that when I accidentally acquired the theoretical ability I did not then intend to use to give orders to her ally she promptly deployed half a joint military force to attack where I was staying and kill a bunch of people for being near me at the cost of a bunch of her own forces toward what was ultimately worse than nothing as a strategic move because now I know her name too. The comparison's not flattering. I'm aware they have both done other things than what happens to have directly pertained to me but I find that I myself always directly pertain to me so when I form my opinions that's what I work with."

The white horse-maybe-person blinks a few times, and then turns and vanishes into the greenery after Woodlark. 

Promise waits for the letter she's supposed to carry.

Woodlark is back a couple of minutes later, before the silence has time to get too awkward, with a folded and wax-sealed paper. The horse person doesn't come back with him.

"Here. Thank you." He holds it out to Promise. 

"Do you want your Gate now." 

"Now is good, thank you." Her leaf dress has pockets. She tucks the letter into one.

Moondance walks back with her to the courtyard that has the archway, and puts a Gate on it again, back to the same spot in the strange forest. 

"Thank you."

She picks some glowing flowers and tucks them into her collar and flies for the place the other Gate left off.

A Farseer is checking the spot every few minutes, and within less than ten minutes the same mage who Gated her over has another Gate up. (The weather seems unhappy about this Gate frequency; there are ominous stormclouds blowing in.)

She doesn't have weather magic, though she knows sorcery can theoretically do it just fine. She thanks the mage and plants the flowers and gets them rooted and then goes underground to deliver the letter.

Leareth is in the library with his sorcery notes, practicing changing a hunk of metal into various different shapes.