Moonstone Quarry gatekeeper of an endless war

tired posr bloop idk words

Twice now Andraste wonders if her own memory should have fractured;
and though faraway her new masque may seem, at times, she has not been able to help feeling such a fumbling fury with herself. Could the sword in the sky not have favored her mem'ry beneath that fated cleaving, rather than that of her very soul? Could she not still return — be! — Aurëwen, she who loved her brood, would have most certainly returned, comforted, kept, held, all all all rather haunt this vessel of what-ever she had once tried to be, could not ever be again?

Emotion has become so vague! Even the most depthful, the most true! Why had a phenomena such as that eluded her?

Nevermind that she has known this male in some manner—
the stricken steps from the uneasy foothills of the quarry with a faint chirrup; cloudthick eyes adrift upon the clustered elbows of moonstone therein and around water's edges.

The roughened planes upon moonmaid's face remain so; yet the vague turmoil beneath fades and fades and fades before she is left blinking at the woad figure who too has come again from her past.