The god’s ears seem to be constantly moving, flicking first to listen to Somnus words, then to listen to the ever-present chattering of the squirrels, then back again to Somnus, or to Ulric, Sloane, any of the others gathered. If one were to watch long enough, it might become apparent that the deity was deep in thought, processing the events of the past few days.
Finally he lifts his head subtly, looking upon the Sovereign of the Dawn Court. A smile hides in the corner of his mouth, his expression almost proud. “I think that is a fine plan,” he said softly, although his words are faint.
“Come then,” he tells them all, Court and squirrels alike. “Let us guide our guests to their home.”
It’s a long way to the islands, but they make it before the day is gone. A land bridge seems to have appeared along the way - a quirk of Oriens lips seems to betray the secret, that the phenomenon is his own work - and the god himself leads the company across it.
In the hustle and bustle, Oriens lowers his head near to Somnus’. “Well done,” he says, so quietly it’s a wonder if Somnus will even hear him, “I believe you can handle it from here.”
And then the god goes back the way he came from.
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