Northstar Vale there, on the small of his back,

"Change?"
The elfin and sunknived was left blinking with nothing short of wondering bewilderment; shorn brow come to furrow.  "Ze choice of such a change is up to only you. If you think that ze customs of a storyteller are of any less import than that of a solider then, please — enlighten me."  Lashes, heavy and half-veiled over the argents that rest upon the dark countenance; yet, perhaps then she might implore of this ... this ...  "What is it that you call yourself, scholar?"

Tones low, patient;
features set into some quiet airiness that, in the later hours of this moon, would one day begin to chill over.

For now, though, there was only an absent pall of awaiting his words.