Northstar Vale running in the dark to find East of Eden

Andraste did not know what sort of night this was;
for she did not shiver awake, shadows prancing before her very eyes with the slosh of springwater in her lungs; did not see the face of the male she lie with shift dark into another, and another still. She did not rouse with tears clung to lashes and lips parted with weak embittered, gauzy-gazed and nigh senseless mouthings; did not sniffle through stupid, stinging nose at all mem'ry she only wished had not ever been; did not weep tears of mad, molten melancholy with throat choked with myriad curses. She did not writhe upon her shoulders, nor claw accursed to cavern trestles; did not wend herself within her warlord's arms, press nearer to him as she now oft might. No;
but she rose quiet all the same, and trendil'd her way through the arteries from her Rest, to the thrumming amphitheater of Cuivénen; farther, further, with sleepless sighs til the witnerbit world plied shorn features with touches of frost.

She only wishes she were without thought;
but upon sighting an insomnolent Valitúrë, thought is all that crowds her mind and the fée can find no words to thus speak  —  so, she settles for silence, and eventually comes to rest alongside Tundra.