Moonstone Quarry gatekeeper of an endless war

hello. it's me. i have no self control. lol.

spiderwebbed memory, fissured and missing pieces like a broken windshield, had spurred the flight from asterium grove despite their kindness to take him in during that tumultuous time. still, as per usual he felt no real guilt over it. it was overwhelming as it came rushing back at him like an unstoppable tidal wave intent to crush and drown. it almost had. relmyna — his first love! vellamo — his daughter! how could he, even in a ghost state have forgotten them?

he remembers now, his memory having patched itself back together in one unpleasant melding that had made him sick and reclusive for weeks; and like the wilds were a siren whose song wintersbane could never resist he is lured back. over and over. this is where he belongs, he knows. this soil he was born to, these wilds that witnessed his birth, his almost death, his wins and losses. these wilds that stole his mother from him much too early, that saw the upheaval of his father's mental stability. this soil that saw him fight with his sister near to the death — her death. he has too much history here and thus it only makes sense to him that this is where his future should be too.

he's not overly fond of high places, given the circumstances but the quarry — despite the upheaval these wilds have seen ( if the smoke, ash and glowing, molten streams spilling from sleeping dragon was of any indication ) — seems stable enough. he is interested in the crystalline water at its bottom and the glimmer of moonstones winking at him from near the water source. he descends the last bit of limestone wall and lets out the breath he didn't realize he's been holding and draws in a smaller, albeit no less greedy breath, tasting the far off metallic sting of ash and smoke, chilled with the biting air of teekon autumns and makes his way towards the water.