Moonspear washed away in a tide of longing

@Osiris and Desdemona had returned finally and the news they had returned with had been plenty to process. Perhaps more of the same in the essence, but the few days that had passed had left with him much to think and speak of with Hydra in private. Though today he had stolen away for purely leisure while the sun broke through steady grey and the venture was not one that he was particularly interested in.

His son had come back with company in tow and to say that Dirge was not at all interested in their newest borrowed member from Easthollow would have been a lie. He was just as content to try and spend time with Osiris too—the youngest of his brood had kept him busy and surprisingly for him, out of the lives of his eldest. Not that they needed heaping amounts of doting on, not now at all. They lived their own lives, chased their own dreams, and so on and so forth. Proper members on the mountain than hungry mouths wanting to be fed and taught… and how quickly they all grew.

The sentimental portions struck him as he crossed through a grove of pines and heard the wind rustle through their stringy, needle-laden boughs. The earth was saturated still; the debris of above clotted and clumped against the trucks. It offered no traction were he to stomp about, but his footfalls were too gentle, his gait too leisure to slide along. He hunted without seeing as though he hunted at all, not slinking about or lying in wait—he could find Osiris without pulling the boy from whatever reverie he had lodged himself in.