11/2/2026, 5:32 PM
There is a familiar scent winding through the trees, up the mountainside's slate and dust, and there is an unfamiliar scent. Gooseberry sweetness and the acrid bite of stomach acid: Fa'liya, lovely little wraith Sverke is eager to reunite with. Something new, heady and saccharine and strange, in its effect on him, stirs his meandering hope for an encounter into a hungrier kind of frenzy.
In the woods, she had been gold-inlaid shadow dressed in veils of scarlet wisteria. Icy blue eyes shrouded in heaps of carmine petals and wariness.
Here, the woman is a piece of obsidian, razor-edged and pried out of the slate mountainside itself, but with a softness in the reflective depths of her dark pelt. Sverke spots her at a distance, thin fur fluttering like raven feathers in the cooling autumn air. The sun is giving way to night. Between gold, orange and pink hues clouds, the stars have already begun to shine. The Sun-eater stares up at the fragile creature poised upon the mountainside, his tail swaying of its own accord.
Fa'liya.He toils over the syllables, savors them, greeting and summons and an offered claim rolled into a single sweet word.
