Morningside Cuesta and in the trembling blue-green of the sky

Laelaps, came a gentle whisper, so soft that it might not have been an exhalation but rather a figment of her imagination.

And then the ethereal breathing breathed to life a story of such finespun detail that the Keil shivered, drawing closer as if she were entranced.  Wildfire eyes met the amaranthine jewels of the starseeker, the scholar effectively ensnared.  She kept walking towards the whitefurred apparition until she were close enough to touch, and slowly she craned her head until her jaw rested parallel to the woman's upturned snout before brazenly she whispered, And tell me, storyweaver, what am I to you?

Fate.