Whitefish River and the ships are left to rust

Even prey had a mutual hunt — the leader and the led. Shaded half-sight followed the duet, and though Dawn spoke and this offered some manner of tutelage to the silver, her ears only casted back towards the grey warden. It seemed she could become either too focused upon following her eye’s intent as far as it would roam, or that words merely went through one ear and moseyed out the other. And then, as was usual and contradictory, it could be both and all.

It was when Aurëwen turned, tentative towards the argent, that she gave pause with scarred lips lune-ing into an absent  O  — an apologetic flurry of lashes, a faint flush moreso to the cheeks, and she finally replied,  “I would be honored, truly. I cannot remember a time where I was a student, but, I will do what I must learn all I may.”

And then, hesitant smile fading a tad from scarred features, her glimmering eye went back to the place where the pair had gone from them. Uncertain, to stalk, or no—