The shed-star was lost in his thoughts.  He’d gone to the mountains, letting the peace of the crisp and cool air wash over him.  The day was bright, far brighter than he was accustomed to, dulling his glow into a mere softness which haloed around him instead of the true light that he cast in the darkness.  Along his side, a tall onyx staff which branched into a dreamcatcher clattered, stardust streaming from it with every step.  On his shoulder, Noctua slept with her head tucked into her wing, cooing softly from time to time as if lost in a dream… and the sound made Azrael smile.

He settled into the shadows of trees, lowering himself to the ground as he rested along the cool ground and let his thoughts settle.  So much had happened recently, and his mind was still reeling, trying to catch up.  As he stared to the world below, the stallion thought of Morrighan and Maeve, wondering for the thousandth time what could have befallen them.  Did the magic from the island somehow taint their blood?  He remembered that Morrighan had been suffering from quite a wound, and he’d done his best to help, but Azrael knew that she needed the treatment from a more skilled healer than he.  Perhaps if he had found her sooner, and gotten her the help she needed, she would be here beside him.

Maeve too… he squeezed his eyes closed, not wanting to believe that something like disease had killed the girl.  She had been too bright and vibrant, with the whole world ahead of her.  It just wasn’t fair – he mused – to snuff out such a light when her life was just beginning.  Nothing made sense of any of this… and as he wondered, a silver tear slid silently down his cheek, landing on the rocky ground with little fanfare as he let himself feel a heavy sense of grief at all that Denocte had lost.

For some time, he stays in his own thoughts, even as his turquoise gaze scoured the land below them.  He saw horses in the distance, too far to identify their names, and wondered if they simply went about their business or if they were grieving too… but then he saw something else, something… brighter?

Curiosity draws him forward, as he follows the flutter of wings to find Willoughby humming as she explored the mountains.   “Hello?”  He questions her with a gentleness to his voice, grateful for the distraction as he comes closer.   “Are you looking for something?”

"Speaking." | Noctua speaks/telepathic

There is an easiness to Willoughby which pushes away the grief, if momentarily.  She smiles, and her hello is a welcome relief to the sadness which had gripped him only moments before.  Now, it is curiosity which presses him toward her, as he wonders why she came.  If she wasn’t looking for something, she was likely just exploring… he understood the sentiment, for Azrael had a restlessness to him as well.  He often wanted to walk to the mountains to clear his mind.  There was just something about the stillness at night upon the peaks, when the stars were close enough to touch and the world was dark with shadows, which called to his restless soul.

“There is always something to find… depending on what you are looking for.”  His words are quizzical, but honest – for Azrael saw something new almost every time he came to the mountains.  There might be a new path, recently cleared by an explorer who went before him.  Or perhaps there were new creatures, watching from the shadows, wondering who intruded on their world.  Or, most interesting of all, perhaps there is a stranger, exploring as curiously as he.

“I am Azrael,” he offers, “Champion of Wisdom for Denocte.”  Though these days, he felt anything but wise.  “Where have you come from?”

"Speaking." | Noctua speaks/telepathic