Moonsong Glacier Dreams of what I once claimed to know.

Consciousness did not feel worth the effort. What did he have to be awake for? A sweeping cold from his chosen haunt, or the pit of despair he had thrown himself in to? For a time there was stillness. Laborious breaths became steady. The trail of blood he'd left pointed to the lake and then veered in to the underbrush, and while Revui sank in to the blissful state of near-death, cushioned by the cold embrace of the perpetual winter upon this ice capped promenade, he longed to slip away.

Your newer scars—victories? a smile in the dark; pine-green eyes staring over a quilled shoulder.
I think he wants out, chuckled a distant voice, and when Revui tried to lift his head to look, he saw constellations.

A draconic shape spanning the air around him, a spine of Orion's belt; wings unfurled, its mouth gaping wide...

He woke, seeing those stars burned in to his vision, blinking in the dark as they slipped away. The taste of rust set in between his teeth. He swam in his own body, tethered by a thin silken strand to the vessel of his body. A vague awareness prickles at his throat, something perfuming the air, drawing him out of the stupor—bunches of winterfat crushed beneath him.