Moonstone Quarry velvety and caressing

Aneira. Another precious shell, shiny and white, added to the growing collection in her heart; its home next to another, one just as new—though, where his brought warmth, hers brought a chill. It was not unpleasant—truthfully, quite the opposite—moreso along the lines of the unexpected. 

Well met, Aneira. I am so happy to know another here.

The longer her eyes drank in the snow woman as the distance closed, the more rapidly the thrumming of her heart fluttered. Her gaze shifted, finding absolutely anything else to be her focus as a soft blush crept over her cheeks. 

I—Well, I had washed ashore here. Or—I think that was what happened. It was a year ago—a long, long year ago. She paused, returning to Aneira, sunstone meeting turquoise once more. 

I found others, strangers turned friends, whom I travelled with for a time. But, they left me. For months I travelled along the coast, alone, searching for them, but came up empty at every turn. I finally had enough of the salty air, so I built up the courage to move more inland. Tired and wanting a rest, I stopped in a nearby glen— a pause to jerk her head —east of here.

That is where Solharr found me. He guided me to Forneskja in the forest shortly before he announced their move, and I have followed him, and the pack, here—to home. The words echoed in the calm quiet of the Quarry, each one soon settling itself within the stacks of ancient stone.

Maybe, Aneira had been correct. The Quarry might keep, after all. She let out a soft sound—part laugh, part amazed hum—as the truth of it sank in.

And you, Aneira? What is your story? I have only met one other, his name is Ezra; he, too, was found by Solharr. Am I correct to assume that your journey to be here started with him as well? Her words were light, feather soft, partly in jest but there was weighted truth there; it seemed everything started with him.