Northstar Vale cradle songs of comfort & bones gnawed by teeth

last so we can have a new one v v soon

A spirit world of dancing lights;
it was not a terrible thing to imagine, to conjure up, non-believing as her own self might be. Who was to say that myriad realms did not exist in the prismatic veils that come of sun's drapings o'er allworld? Not that she would ever know, of course  —  but she felt the sullen shifting within the air that they breathed of another, and even Undómiel knew when to continue quieted;
for now, she keeps as to herself and her own sorrows as the fowl does of hers; flocking along the path that Kukutux had so set, and assumed the role of tenant and listener.