Moonspear you were never made to fly

The moments ticked by unchecked, each one growing with an uncomfortable weight. She was so close to that edge, dare he thought she teetered on the precipice, and his sense of dread grew. Concern flickered to the edges of his countenance when she heaved a sigh towards nothingness, and he had been about to speak when she had stepped back and turned towards him.

Her reaction there rendered him silent still, though he distinctly saw the uncertainty crest in her features and turn swiftly towards fear. Hers was a different sort of dread; he had intruded on a moment that may very well have been quite private. He stole away whatever sense of wonder and safety she may have had—so he thought. Yama was very much the opposite of her twin, Dirge realized, though he had not been so ignorant to know that she was reclusive.

"I didn't meant to startle you," he said, "I was just coming to see how you were when you turned. Your sister was wondering after you, and I too." A foolish lie as he had seen more than that, but for her sake he hoped she would believe it, if only to bolster the sense that he had just happened by and hadn't been lingering from a distance. Perhaps she would see through it, as she was very much one of Charon's brood, but they did not know one another that well in spite of his tenure there.