Ankyra Sound The retelling of an old story

The man was so respectful in his approach it surprised and pleased her simultaneously. He comes close enough she can make out his form, blurry still with the sun gripping the horizon, and she squints at him as if it might help.  It didn't.

She feels that stirring inside her again as he tells her he has found his home — come on, it's time to leave, we must go — but she pushes it down, shifting her weight as he sits.  Dragonrest Cliffs, he tells her, and she lets out a snort of laughter.  A blind woman living on a cliff?  See, Corva, there is no place for you here.

You.  Such a small word with large intention; it was not a vision or a feeling that brought her this way but the companionship of a stranger, and it nearly felt selfish (as it was!).  It came out of her mouth too quick to stop and she wasn't entirely sure where it came from or what it meant, but it was the answer she had been searching for.

The man had offered her respect and space but he had also reached out to her with his comfort and it was that, perhaps, that drew her near.

I couldn't leave without meeting you again and making sure you had found what you were looking for.