Moonspear we just sell different parts of ourselves

"melkor."

memories swept away as if it were snow from the edge of a stone-goose's perch. kukutux blinked, shame barbing her to realize she had not recognized him. she saw the scars upon his towering form and the blue-black of his proud pelt with its remembered feathering. they had both served the elf in different ways. 

recalling courtfall brought her to sharp mind of agana; the pain bleakened in her soul but the duck pushed it away. "it is good to see you again," she murmured. something must have happened to the silverwood creature, else he would not be here, melkor, a subordinate to the blackbear when once he had ruled his own kingdom.