Moonspear Moodi / Cryin

She yawned—countless times—and Argent fell victim to it… the way one tends to do when witnessing another do such an action.

Her energy, her lack thereof, felt absolutely sluggish, and he found himself both regretting trying to lure her to the borders to assist him when she could barely drag one paw before the other, and amusement, given that no one else on this mountain seemed to appreciate sleeping in the way she did.

It would be an unfortunate adjustment, it seemed.

“Historian,” he murmured, a brow arching as he cast her a sideways glance. “I only know of what Njord said—about the disaster that happened when Sialuk first left.” His eyes drifted from her, scanning ahead—“Seems like you’ll have your paws full piecing things together,” he offered—polite, as one was when neither present wanted to be the rude one and stop the overly polite chatter. “I assume that means you’ve learned the history of a lot of the valleys below. You don’t happen to have anything about the Sunspire, do you?”