Duskfire Glacier queen's court

her halls were, as ever, magnifique.

gaps in stone let stakes of sunlight through, embedding into opposing walls. yet, with each step the light receded, and the gurgle of running water grew louder, until the stream could be seen, silver and glittering as it fell into deeper darkness.

one step over it, and up ahead only the natural vision of such noble beasts could help one follow the narrowing path, pick the right doorway, until, yet again, the sound of a rushing stream led down, down, until the Feumont's squeezing throat loosened to let them pass into a grand chamber.

this was were where the queen took her dinner, a room with a sloping, decorated ceiling, water flowing out of one wall and diagonally to the far corner, where it disappeared again. a great entryway, accessed over three natural steps, led into a brighter room, which shared its light with this one. at the point where stalactites reached nearest the floor, connecting with their stalagmite kin, a small alcove had formed, which was now piled with clean bones, carefully removed skins, preserved antlers.

in the middle of the room, occupying a single large stone briefly parting the stream in two, was laid what remained of a renarde.

iet ies fresh. purred the queen, gracefully walking to present the meal to her guest. or, as ief. zhis air cools blood, preserves meeat.

she smiled. in the near-dark, her eyes were green stars.