Dragoncrest Cliffs you are my deepening skies — give me your stars to hold.

In the days that Vonn had been tolerated enough to stay, he had busied himself with repaying @Blixen’s hospitality with hunting and spending the rest of his leisure with the dark corsair, @Vercingetorix. Ever the suave mingler, it was altogether rare to see the unchaste Crow so... pensive. He had dressed himself in the wistful veils that usually adorned his sister, who wore them like the wilting bride of an endless, waning wedlock.

But there was an impending sense of providence as the days melded into one another; it was the knowledge that his sister returned ever-closer to her settlement of the cliffs. Said sense had made him quiet, oddly solemn, and so, on the premise of her that murmured to him, he’d wisped his way to the threshold of sequoias in the winter morning.

All the laughter and lecherousness so ordinary on his scarred façade had receded into a shivering enigma; his eyes heavy with lethargic, surreal expectancy. 

And then she arrived: as beautiful and as terrible as the dawn, as wrathful as an army with banners. Even from here, with her wilting, fragile person so far form him, he could feel a rage colder than any eve in the Icefields flutter across her divine face. But Vonn knew that it was not at him, never at him. He knew from the anguish in her eyes, even from here, that her wrath was solely on herself, for losing him. For forgetting him.

Vonn was gasping, a plea for permission to proceed from no higher-one in particular, in a heavy, panting inquiry, “Oh—“ It was the only warning he gave, before all pretense fell as he streaked towards Aurëwen Aurëwen Aurëwen like some half-made star.