(Scars do not appear to be cause of death –shock ... - Bad Request

well-tended by the druids here.
“For the one that Mourns No Longer”, it says. Few know the meaning of the
plaque these days, but Annah and Dak'kon were there when it had been set
it up so long ago. She allows her fingers to brush over the tarnished
inscription.
She looks up at the sound of chirping. Birds. The druids have introduced
birds into the glade.
"So where do we go from here, then?" Morte asks as Annah sits down on a
stone bench. It is smooth beneath skin, and like a cool pond the surface
seems to draw the hot aches from her bones.
"We'll talk about it soon," she sighs, stretching out onto the seat, tail flicking
like an old cat's, "I found some old things that'd help us find 'im."
"Really?" Morte grins eagerly, "What?"
"Quit rattlin' yer bone-box and lemme rest me eyes," Annah yawns. She
really is tired, but she smiles as she lies down, "Jes some old knicknacks. Ole
bastard's gonna have some sharp words from me once we save 'im. Snappin'
that portal shut in me face like that."
She'd forgiven him long ago, but the man still deserves a good punch in the
ribs, "Jes guard me as I sleep. I'll tell yeh all about it after a wee nap."
For a few minutes longer she lets the light that filters through the branches
bathe her face. The air is cool against her skin, sweet and refreshing. It had
been a long night, and a long story to relive. With a smile she pulls the hood
over her eyes. Maybe the idjit can't end the Blood War... she muses to
herself.
But she chooses to believe.
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