Northstar Vale i've stared into that darkness, leaned in to it
his crown was ever changing made as it was by leaves and berries of the season
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The moonbeam empyrean tampered by the velveteen veil of night that mark his otherwise starlit touched pelage moves along the borders where it has crossed his mind that he cannot simply be just a naturalist. Surely, he can be if it is what he desires but lately it not the only thing that he desires. The sky and earth are still the most important thing to the druid, of course, but he thinks that he must take on a skill that can readily present itself as useful to the Vale and takes the mercenary as his new goal though he has yet to deduce upon what specialties he may strive to reach for next. He has witnessed the Vale’s birth, the incredible thing that they, all but children or in the cusp of young adulthood have accomplished and it is mighty. It only strikes the druid as logical that he should seek to protect what they have built.

Thus, he is guarded when he comes across a heady scent of another; of a rána upon a particular stretch of borders. He follows it with haste, imperial green gaze seeking the figure haunched in on himself. Umbra painted guard hairs bristle as he approaches, tail lifted over his back in a natural display of dominance. It requires no thought of the empyrean and it is only while he remains the single Vale wolf present. For the moment, Mato is in charge and he has watched Sebastian from afar, with awe in his young eyes as his father handled strangers at the borders. It is this visage that the imperial adopts now eager to see if he can have the same effect as his kingly father before him. “Aiya, Rána,” The empyrean speaks in the tongue of the druids, and realizes that it may not be a language that is understood by the stranger. “You did not call,” Mato speaks, pointing out that which does not settle well with his intuition. “Why do you linger at our borders as a lómin — a shadow would?” The king of starlight demands in deep timbre, softened like a calm wind’s with the lulling and auspicious rumble of a brewing tempest hidden just beneath the surface.
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RE: i've stared into that darkness, leaned in to it - by rip gemini - July 08, 2017, 07:18 AM