Wapun Meadow i. a vagrant you shall become

A soft tread alerted her to the approach of another, sensitive auds taking to flight - in the moon phases following the desecration of her dark features her ears have come to attempt to fill the place of her lost eye. Angle and tilt her dome of night she would, leveling a shielded lavender orb upon the wistful swan. 

For a long moment they stared, pale fawn and atramentous raven. 

She, Aurëwen, offered a concerned chirp, the likes of which riled her to reaction. 

The disgraced duchess inclined her star-kissed crown deeply, muzzle tipping vaguely to the side in gentle flourish - for how could she find threat or reason for suspicion with such a maiden of light? Raven plume swished faintly, eagerness restrained to the shy smile proferred - oh, how she longs for company. 

"Blessings to you," she would rasp softly at last, "your language is beautiful."