Northstar Vale Ima be a love you 'til the day I die kinda man

The little time they could seclude with one another was quickly running out—each passing sunset reminded the waif of such a thing, and she found her trepidation growing—as if waiting for the other ball to drop. For the disappointment to come.

She tried her best to pick at food when the opportunity arose, but surely it wasn’t enough to flourish—it almost seemed even prior to her arrival at Epoch, life of a rogue and the disappointment of what felt like so many lives before had left her appetite permanently low. This morning, she forced a small morsel of rabbit down her throat, feeling her stomach clench with discomfort at the thought of more.

She considered seeking care herself—surely she could not diagnose herself, or why the thought of food would bring bile to her throat, but there was so little time for now.

And her thoughts were far more preoccupied.

The man of those very thoughts called for her, and she made her way as quickly as she could to the border. A hesitance lingered in her as her warm eyes took him in—a small smile offered in hopes of keeping any thoughts of her own waning wellness far from his mind as she closed the distance between them. “Hi,” she offered quietly, feeling the cold of the autumn giving way closer to winter. Soon, the snow would be upon them, and he would be in the warmth of a palace called Akashingo.

She tipped her muzzle up, dismissing her stress and concern—having to, if she were to even function.