His smile mirrors her own. Not only a soldier, but a leader of forces. Interesting, then, that they should find these parallels in one another. The darkness (though he doesn't know about that yet). The Phoenix, a symbol in either of their worlds, though also a tangible being in Dion's. The way they try to hold to duty and stumble, Zoya without Nikolai and Dion without a kingdom or an army.

Desired. An interesting word, in this place, isn't it?

But they were not all soldiers. Other people could be drawn to battles, those untrained for them, or at least not formally trained.

He can't say what she might have been through where she comes from. But then, it isn't as if Dion wears his troubles on his sleeve, either. Yes, he has the one bandaged arm, but anyone could have something like that. The real hurts are those unseen.

"Perhaps people who can endure this curse of theirs," he suggests.

Outside, he glances up at the sky again. Unfamiliar stars. They keep walking a bit away from the lights of the boarding house (and perhaps listening ears). He lets her lead, since she has a better idea of the sky she's looking for.

"Have you been here long?" he asks.