Noctisardor Bypass and in songs, bless the ancient ones

Happy Howl-oween?!

Long after darkness draped its cold cloak over Rivenwood, Druid paced among the trees. She felt restive tonight, for no particular reason. Her emotional state was tough to pinpoint; she both missed Bracelet’s company dearly and looked forward to meeting Mireille and perhaps some new friends in a few days’ time.

She found her way to Ashstone Cliffs and climbed without really thinking about what she was doing. When Druid reached the ridge’s summit, she gazed at Rivenwood sprawled below. Her tail twitched and she felt a stirring in her breast, prompting her to toss back her head and howl a long note to her kindred in the wood.

Druid knew nothing of Samhain and the veil between worlds, though the sound of her own voice piercing All Hallows’ Eve made her mouth flood, perhaps appropriately, with the color orange.