Ravensblood Forest from silence rose a symphony

His words went without an answer, and his head craned back to peer at his brother curiously. Stjornuati seemed entranced by something, taken with the moment in the way his eyes saw all and yet nothing at all. They were glazed over, moving yet to take in the sights as his body stilled. And when he sang, his intonation brought Solpallur to still too, hearing the reverb of his call off the stone walls that sloped to hold the forest in.

It was an old song, but one he knew intimately; the urge to join in was instinctual and his muzzle craned skyward to lend his voice to the refrain. Deep and sonorous, he was surprisingly in tune for as disheveled as his appearance and voice truly were. He may not have felt the same soul-tie to the place as his brother did, but he felt the connection in resonant verse, and their song carried out into the night from the depths of the umbral forest.