Gyrfalcon's Keep the twisted nails of faith

"your bird spoke of your loss; he said you wished something returned unto you. did you find it, bean na farraige? his words carried the familiarity wrought by their odd acquaintance. taltos was unsurprised to feel the old weight of his affections for her surging to the fore -- despite the glacial rebuke he had received for their revelation. hers was a life rife with the stresses of leadership, and he was bound wholly to the plateau. yet he wished to pledge himself to her, this cultist salted with sea-spume, seaweed woven implacably into her wind-twisted plaits.

a silent moving within his breast bid the druid reach to her with a welcoming protraction of his earthen muzzle, murkwater eyes tipped to the light as their familiar green became apparent 'neath the sun-rays. he was still then, a figure of burnished mahogany resting as so much driftwood upon her ruined and precious strand.