Noctisardor Bypass steel your heart, the dawn will come

Viridian eyes cast skyward, the firesprite finds his heart ensnared; caged in the confines of skypiercing slate ridges, a callback to ancestors beyond even the most ancient depths of Amadis's studies. He knows in an instant that he must see it, this cinereous palace carved to the heavens. The prince forges on.
When at last his gaze falls on the verdant carpet of the narrow inlet cut between windhewn walls, his steps taper to a halt. Wolf-scent here, bold and fresh, overlaid with the astringency of urine. Foreign to the royal, whose homeland has long thrived under the privilege of relative isolation, yet instinct guides him. The warning wards him several steps back, and briefly he flounders. Seclusion has served him well, but the valley calls to him.
A short interlude, before curiosity dominates. Muzzle tilted to the heavens, he looses a call for any who might answer, a thin lilting melody sustained across the distance only by virtue of his domestic heritage.