Dragoncrest Cliffs We can hear when we are hollow

Just as much as she seemed unaware of talking the ears off of all kru, she didn’t seem to take his next inquiry to heart. Rather, it gave her pause once she settled down; and for a moment considered that, to those others, she might as well speak of the heavens as if they were alive. When it came to her self-seasoning of the skies, Aure wasn’t one to boast — not as Stigmata was keen to, anyways.

Speaking of the skies was like... like... How to put this into less decorative words? She’d always had trouble with connecting with others, nevermind on a less-flowery basis; something she always fidgeted at, humming in thought. ”It... it is how ze sky is for me, I suppose. You could say, er, it is like revisiting a fond friend,” she began, a little haltingly. ”Only, rather than every other fortnight, it is every other night, for me. I... I was born beneath ze stars, and...” This was where she faltered, then upon the reasonings and the whys as she nibbled on a scarred lip.

Unbidden, and more to herself than directly to Ephraim, she queried, ”You, ah, know Verx, yes?”—she was sure the younger male did. Although she’d given out her little origin story to few upon first meeting, dragul had been the first. The first to know that, and more, but, ”Ze stars were there on ze night when... when my brother and I had been desecrated,” a quiet cant of her muzzle, to her red hurts. ”We’d been some months younger than yourself, and then some.”

Aure withdrew into herself a little bit, but continued, ”Stars were — and remain — my constant, even if there is, er, no true use for them on ze cliffs.” A flustered little roll of her shoulder, ”They were there for me when I thought my brother had died in his sleep beside me. They were there for me, too, when he awoke ze night after. I... suppose it is why I speak of stars as if they breathe; but they must, somehow, to shine so brightly, no?”