Moonspear you hate the fighting in the world

it started small, like the gentle rustle of a strong maple on a windy fall day. the leaves shifted and shook, but the tree had grown so wide and strong that the breeze hardly disturbed it. it was only at night, when the world had fallen asleep, that the branches were noticeable-- shaking and tussling, even as the maple held it's ground. 

but over time, perhaps from keeping so quiet, the sturdy maple began to fall victim to the wind. 

terance had begun his mornings much slower than usual, sometimes not even leaving his den. it'd affected his place in the rank, which only made it worse. at first, a visit from hydra or wraen or rannoch made whatever held so tightly to his thoughts release their grip, but sometimes they found their way back. and midway through conversation, terance would find himself zoned out entirely. he didn't always think about something particular, either. 

like now, perhaps, as terance and @Rannoch patrolled the north border, he found himself staring dulling at a 45 degree angle towards the ground. a mild buzzing occupied his thoughts, and perhaps the words of rannoch-- whom he'd forgot he'd been talking to.