[Anora Eventide]

Adjusting her shawl was a brief ritual, the man's caring little gestures perpetually surprised her. But she was glad for them. Avrie had not written in a while, and it was difficult to send letters to a wandering sister. Austin was likely submerged in his newest fancy and the business he alluded to. The library's blissful quiet was numbing her senses and the slow rehearsals of her forbidden lessons sapped her of vigor as she wandered in the circles of the dead. Some candlemarks she felt like a pale, blind thing sloshing through the dark. These moods would pass, but amidst them she found solace in quiet company no matter how precarious its source.
A cheerier woman would have been smothered cycles ago.

Following her companion's gaze, she lifted her eyes to the heavens and thought some foggy line from a poem she had read as a child comparing them to the gardens of archons. Tonight they seemed less benign, shining bright as the tips of swords, their rays pinning the world in place.

Her hand rested kindly on the head of one hound, scratching behind its ears and smoothing its fur. It bore her cool hands patiently as it slinked alongside her.
The camp spun outwards from a central stable, a small collection of tents bearing the shadows of men and the occasional woman. Some stood outside speaking to one another or stirring thick oily concoctions over fires. All within sight managed to regard Dimitri with some manner of fealty, save Taulkis. He gave a hasty salute, but it seemed more of habit than feeling.

Anora watched the dark Elf blend into the evening, his dark skin slipping into the black stretch of sky. Her looks lacked poignancy or interest but they endured longer than her typical appraising glance. She was watching even if her emotions did not betray her keenness.
Dimitri's account of slavers was a sinister background music to her curiosity. She returned her blue eyes to him, caught on the nostalgic smile over such a story. Like he was describing a favorite tavern he had visited.
But Dimitri wisely pursued a different road, detailing his ambitious plans for the future, his bridling of the recalcitrant wasteland and its fierce inhabitants. They had survived Arium winters in the hollows of mountains and pressed against its cruel boulders.
Anora mused aloud, "I wonder how such coarse peoples are to be overcome." Something different crept into her voice but her heart dulled its warmth, "You will be wise in such things I hope."
His arm was around her, and half-recalled promises nestled in her hair. But Anora had no answers for these. Her eyes were cast towards the hunching shadows of the mountains, terrible sentinels over the land, like the fists of the gods knuckling the earth.

And then the hound slipped out from under her hand, bristling in a growl toward the dark. Its mouth curled flashing fangs and red gums as its entire body hummed with hostility. Its bark slammed against Anora's ears as its long legs propelled it toward the slowly rotting marsh.

Anora's head was ringing as she stared after the running hound. Futilely, she demanded that it "heel" and even gave a surprisingly shrill whistle between her fingers. It was rare to hear her speak above a hum, but Anora brushed off this indiscretion when she turned back to Dimitri.
"Shall we follow?"