Lone Star Mountain my heart has sought a thing i cannot name

The tone of voice that followed Vonn’s previous words made his ears flicker back; if he stumbled through the misty memories of his mind, he would’ve said that his lord-father only spoke to him in such a way. Soberingly, he realized the tone of this ambassador was completely justified—whether that or some other sort of representative of Diasporia, he’d fallen into their claims. And, it seemed, into their good graces; at least a little bit.

”You are a generous one,” he confessed, and for a fleeting, rare moment his own eyes creased into crescent moons. At the question in his eyes, the porcelain traveler merely acquiesced, ”When I am healed, allow me to repay you in some way. In a hunt, in a bargain.” In his bleary mind, this made sense, too; and yet, he had no clue what he was trying to say.

A dull ache had begun to creep behind his eyes, and a wary groan slipped from him. Opening them only to give their surroundings another look, they slit on shelf of stone, curtained away by ice and hollowed into the mountain. ”I would stay there,” he nodded, face solemn again, ”for ze remainder of my time here... However long that may be.”