Sunbeam Lair I'm counting UFOs

This scent was one of the few that Aurëwen had all but forgotten. She hadn’t become personal with the carrier, but she’d never not recognize the aroma nor the figure, no matter how fleetingly she’d been acquainted with him. Eastwood, her wearied, vagrant soul breathed, rousing itself from dormancy as it noticed another far-seer.

For the first time in quite awhile, her wide, full-moon, girlish eyes invited in the gathering blink of trillions of extinct stars, and found an aching severance by her soul. They offered not guidance, as she once sought, but beckoned to the errant pieces of her, strewn about in the gloaming in-between. It was a thin, veiling solace only managed when the sky dribbled and blotted black over itself, and she wondered why this formidable gona now studied them as she always had.

Lingered awhiles away, teetering on which tongue to use. As the faint traces of the stars drew shivers down her silver spine, perhaps it was the earlier event with Anthansius, but she made her tender voice jocular, having an entirely doubtless confidence in whatever Blodreina had begun to teach her, “Bida moda, gona.”