Meadowlark Prairie someone to rely on as thunder comes a-rolling down

as the nightcub’s song tapered to a finish, astara reflected on the quiet that crept back into the snow-dewed valley. 

a flutter not so far off alerted her to the presence of another. training her gaze on the shadowed form, astara measured the ivory sylph in a quick, decisive glance. she was not ashamed her keening had been heard; if anything she seemed to meet the woman’s presence with a set jaw, as if challenging her to ridicule if she saw fit. 

a question was levied into the air and it remained unanswered; the girl did not possess the faculties to respond, and instead she rose as if to quit her haunt on the hill in light of her company.