Redsand Canyon lómëar

Undated & vague for now. @Trench ♡ but AW

“Laurië lantar lassi súrinen,
yéni unótimë ve rámar aldaron—”

Even though not entirely unpleasant, and not without some melody, Andraste would never be a favored bard in her uncharted halls; would never keep an audience listening long enough to remain ‘til the second verse. Still: the silver sang, a wisping hymn, giving the lament a merrier warbling  ( wisping thought it was )  through the airs of deepening harvest, and so she sang for these eldritch cathedrals:

“Yéni ve lintë yuldar avánier,
nu luini yassen tintilar—”

Then! a hushed smothering of chords intervened, rushing from her like a burnished gust; eyes as full and wide and brimming with the glow of two full moons; lilting lyric forgotten; once-lovely features alit with a rare and glimmering smile of startling euphoria; a high and red flush humming beneath riddled cheeks,
for what she drew forth from the old and fading roots of mem'ry past was none other than the sigh-and-you’ll-miss-it ...
threadleaf. 

Voiceless; any floral murmuring soon became incoherent as the sybil began; a rare resplendence welded into those gauzy, faraway features; an absent admiration, feel it abysmally as she might.

This forage, fortuitous! How it would mend those in the coming winter! She must preserve it, yes—