Noctisardor Bypass the longships

mahler faced the dark surface of the water. "indeed it does, druid," he agrees at once, feeling how light the air seemed now in contrast with the day's exhausting heat. 
she was at an age of articulating the weather's patterning. he found this to be important indeed, an instinct worth his nurturing. "magick? how so?" the gargoyle inquired with interest, peering with a scientific curiosity at her small friend. "hello, bracelet." a charming name.
"i am up late because — after dark i become a night vatchman," he told druid with a faux somberness, humour in his lavender eyes as he watched sidelong for the child's reaction.