Moonstone Quarry dragonspine

Aneira's gaze shifted from the pools at their feet to Solharr, her expression soft but unreadable. She had long since grown accustomed to the stillness of the night, the weight of silence pressing in on her as much as the stone beneath her paws. Her own nights had become increasingly restless, her mind unable to settle, the ache of what was lost and the pull of things unspoken often keeping her from sleep.
Her voice was low, almost a murmur as she answered, „Sleep... hasn't been kind to me, either.” She lifted her gaze to meet his, her turquoise eyes steady, though her words carried a quiet weight. „The quiet places inside... they get louder the more time passes.” She did not need to ask what kept him from sleep. She already knew. It was her, his wife, haunting the edges of his silence like a ghost with no name. Aneira could not fathom how anyone could walk away from him: a man carved from loyalty and fire, steady as mountain-root, capable of bearing the world on his back. And yet… perhaps there were reasons only the heart could understand. She tilted her head slightly, a quiet, private thought blooming behind her eyes. Wherever she is, Aneira mused silently in her mind, may the stars still watch over her.
The forstmaiden stepped closer, just enough to feel the shift in the air between them, and let the silence settle like the cool mist around them. It felt right, to be closer to him, his flame-born body. Her lips curved into a slight smirk as she looked up at him, her words laced with a quiet amusement: „I suppose it's a good thing we both prefer being awake, then. Doesn't feel quite so lonely.” Her gaze softened, a flicker of something deeper hiding behind her words, before she turned her attention back to the pools, the stillness of the stone, and the quiet echoes of the morning stretching out before them both. She wondered if he might come nearer too; though she would not ask. Let the silence decide for them, as it often did.