Moonspear Everyone sees what you appear to be

He was near the border when the call rose.

Their borders, at least part of them, had gone quiet with the departure of Osiris and a handful of his (now former) subordinates, though Moonspear itself had been relatively quiet. With their forces divided into thirds—part to find Mira, part to stay there, and part claiming the glen—he had opted to linger closer to home on the off chance that Mira did in fact turn up. The days had stretched out and though contained, his worry had grown with each evening.

Dirge hoped that perhaps the caller along the borders would have been one of the various faces he had met in recent past, but as he arrived there he found it was neither Henryk or Zsuzsa. She bore a striking resemblance of notable interest to others he had seen, though one particular face crossed his mind—the father of Nyx’s daughters, Mahler. But it was there and gone in an instant; he played it off on a weary mind instead.

Leaving the advantageous crop of cover he had descended into, he made himself known. Mute interest played in his gaze but his features kept their relative stoicism save the raise of a brow to do his speaking for him. It was not a difficult feat to slip into the unspoken language of a leader, and it exuded from his stature and the lock of his gilded, unwavering gaze.

She had called for an audience and well, she had one now.