Firefly Glen cutting shapes

"Not at all," and come to think of it, maybe that wasn't something he did for long. It was certainly an activity Dirge had picked up along the road; harassing his sisters never got old. They'd get annoyed and whiny, eventually ganging up to knock him down and do the usual threatening. Provided of course, they could catch him. They often did, being smaller and compact and clever together than he was on his own. The thought stirred the matter of the wandering Nyx and he wondered in the pause if she would turn up soon. Perhaps Saor would have found her by now, or the other way around.

Either way, he felt he had the time to waste to better gauge his company. His relative, he corrected in thought as he drew in a breath to speak. "So tell me, if you would be so inclined, what do your stars tell you? I still can't make a damn thing out about them." Mysticism was lost on him, provided those sparkling pinpoints said anything at all.