Lake Rodney shapeshift conductor for your spark

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If his eyes are made of earth then the umbra boy’s eyes are made of sulphuric sun fire. The druid is not sure he has ever seen eyes so yellow and therefore casts it off as aberrational. The empyrean would call them haunting if they did not appear to be the haunted. The darkness is stygian in nature and it has nothing to do with the umbra boy’s pelage. Mato’s observations are just that: observations and he knows not if they hold truth but the older boy strikes the druid as a grim beast for reasons that Mato cannot name. Perhaps it is his quiet way he speaks or the discomfort his stance had shown upon first giving voice to his inquires. It does not matter, Mato decides.

The following question that spills from betwixt Cypress’ — he introduces himself as — lips is one that the druid finds peculiar. As if it is an outlandish thing to lay amidst the roots of a specimen far more archaic and puissant than he. The crown jewel of Lake Rodney both impresses and humbles him. Mato understands there is a cycle to nature: a balance that must always be maintained. He cannot fathom how this jewel has managed to hold fast against all of the odds stacked against it. “I sought to see the crowning jewel up close,” He breaks his contemplative silence to gesture to the towering titan behind him. “and to enjoy the quietude it offers.” From the Fen, from his siblings — despite how he adores both. Mato does not mean to take their presence for granted so generously but they have always been there — as he believes they will always remain — and he seeks to find a place he may revitalize.

“What brings you this way?” Mato returns the question in kind.

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