The Heartwood There is no end, only a new beginning.

yes, came a curt reply. an ear flicked as the silence of einn's paws indicated is abrupt halt, and so the shadow of a man turned, large, bulky, as his scarlet gaze met einn's own ; a bright teal, reminiscent of a summers ocean. his tail flicked, then, towards the purpling sky overhead. i do not know you, but she does, and it was to the moon, the máni that he gestured to. moonlady, máni, she knows all things, including you, einn.

and again, he would turn away, though this time without silence: she sees all things ; she watches at this very moment, tail swayed as he spoke. it is something to be comforted by, rather than afraid of, for her assurance is a powerful tool. to know she is there, listening to your cries and hearing your prayers ... well, for me, it is a tether that i am grateful for. to be her listener, her speaker ... it is no easy task.

then, looking over his shoulder, he said: do you hear her, as well?