azrael
Azrael was secretly relieved to have found another in the desolate emptiness of the ghost city. Though her words bite through the silence with a taste of bitterness to them, the shed-star doesn’t let them offend. Instead, he simply nods in agreement, for the island had never been a place where he’d found himself alone before. Even when it had worn a different shade of magic or a different face, someone had found him here. He’d met Tenebrae on the island, seen Elena here… the magic just had an inextricable way of drawing strangers together.
He watches the way she shifts tenderly from foot to foot, noting the edge to her voice which seemed more than just simple annoyance. Pain. He could recognize the hint of pain in her, his turquoise gaze softening as it rests on her with a carefully banked concern. “You’re hurt… please… let me help you.” Without waiting for a response, the male ducked into a nearby shop, one which he’d passed by earlier, gathering some dried bee balm from an overflowing basket near the counter and making his way back to the mare and her wolf companion, stopping before them to grind it into a thick paste.
“May I?” He gestures toward an open wound on her leg, “It will help to stave off infection.” As he waits for her response, the shed-star continues. “While I’m not a healer, the People ensured that all youth were taught the basics of healing, so we could look out for one another.” It was a pleasant memory, one which drew a smile as he remembered, Azrael keeping his demeanor warm and calm despite the mare’s obvious agitation.
“I’m sorry we haven’t met, I haven’t always been the most social… you can find me in the mountains on most nights, for it is in the mountains I feel the closest to Caligo and her stars.” He gives no further explanation, for the dreamwalker had made an attempt to seek the sovereign and contribute more to their court, but his attempt to gain an audience with her had been fruitless. And so, he had stayed on the fringes of their society, looking in but never really feeling a place of belonging. There was time for this to change though, and Azrael (ever the optimist) seemed determined to try and find his role within the Court, despite appearances to the contrary.
Why going through the trouble of coming here? It was a question he had asked himself throughout his wandering in the magic-filled place, one which Azrael could not provide a simple answer for. So though it sounded foolish, he admitted the truth to Morrighan with an almost sheepish smile. “I needed to clear my head… somewhere to be alone with my thoughts, and to remember that the world is bigger than my own troubles. What better place than somewhere untamed, touched by a magic which cannot be explained.”
@Morrighan
