He wanted to send a message to Moira the moment they parted ways. One sunrise would never be enough for him-- he always expects nothing, wants everything.
(Oh, if he could be defined by one thing, it would be want. )
He wanted to send a message but he did not. It was easy enough to ignore his heart- he has practiced this throughout his life. He told himself she was fine, he was fine, and life plodded along as usual. She wasn't gone, though. He let himself think of Moira Tonnerre in the quiet moments when there was not anything else to think about. She began to haunt him the way Asterion did, and Calliope, and Turhan. (Seraphina would likely haunt him the same way except she always felt close at hand, less like a ghost and more like a scent in the air that he couldn't quite trace) In this way he would be reminded of her, of them, by certain and very specific things: the afternoon light falling across the canyons would remind him of Calliope's rage. The breeze from the northeast, when it blew, would remind him of Asterion. And at night, when a star would fly across the sky in a glorious rush before becoming one with the dark, he would think of Turhan.
But then the snow came and the jasmine died, the one that reminded him of brilliant Moira Tonnerre. Things changed, and life was no longer plodding along obediently.
-
The days that follow the crow's departure are accompanied by a faraway buzz-- he grapples with fear as he realizes what it would mean if there is no message in return. When the crow flies home with parchment in claw, relief is a palpable wave through his body. The small bird lands unceremoniously on Eik's rump and begins to chatter excitedly until the stallion closes his eyes and reaches out with his mind- "Thank you, friend. It would be easier if you show me."
For a few seconds he sees Moira as the crow saw her: the candlelight illuminating the lovely intensity of her face as she reads the short letter. The crow's thoughts quickly move on to food in great detail, ignoring Eik's silent complaints, but then to the stallion's delight he is taken on a flight around the court. For a moment he is enraptured with the feeling of flying- it is everything he had dreamed, and more. When the novelty of it fades to the background, he focuses on what he is seeing. His heart aches to see a place he's never been to, thoroughly damaged by nature (or the opposite of nature?) and it lurches at the brief glimpse of a bay with a familiar-looking star, walking next to a unicorn.
Asterion? And--
"Go back," he asks, but memories don't work like that. "Back to the start, please--" He is brought back to his body with a rude peck on his rump. The crow drops his letter on Eik's dusty back and pecks at him again, impatient.
The grey's heart races in excitement (he was so absorbed in the memory, he had forgotten the message!) and he quickly but carefully unravels the parchment. His eyes widen at first glance of Moira's delicate writing. Eik has never received a gift before, and although it may seem like a simple act of correspondence, this is a treasure to him.
He reads the letter three times, pausing each time to re-read particular sentences
"With love,
With love,
With love,"
but his mind was made up before the first word.
-
The crow, looking even more haggard than usual, returns to Denocte. The letter he carries this time was hastily written and lacks the precise penmanship of the first. One might think that an entirely different hand had written it, except it shares the same brevity.
Moira-
It is a relief to know you are alive and well! Solterra is covered in snow. We are cold and short on supplies, but managing for now. Sleep is the least of my worries.
I am coming to you, not long after the crow. I think his name is Martin.
