Heron Lake Plateau only need the light when it's burnin' low

a wild mar!

he is alone for some time - oh, alone and a-waiting for the sunrise to be well and truly over, for ysengrin is not one to dismiss beauty though he does not partake - ysen revels in this time. time is still, the surroundings themselves are still and only he is alive, running and leaping and bounding unfettered. he lacks chain and master, brings himself to the edge then loses himself in the freefall that is coming down from the high of plunging. left by himself with nature and nought a soul to wonder for him, ysen lingers by the water, paces, spins, finds himself drawing near to other thoughts to avoid his Madir's stellar eyes finding him in his emptiness.

a voice! deep note, ringing timber to bring him from solitude into the company of men - the boy does not resist the command, as is his right to. instead, he calls back, answers the echo of his saviour with his own, lilting reply. 

"the Dreamspinner - aye, it is i, 'tis this wolf's humble self that approaches thee!" ysen is bright, never breaking pace even as he approaches the commander, light-footed and sure of step. the man is darkly hued, dots falling above his brow, the strong visage joining very nicely with the voice that has demanded so surely of itself. fitting! and he, his own birdlike warble neither male nor female as is his body. "might this wolf have the pleasure of your calling, good lord?"