A sunrise kisses, Tears shed in darkness
I have no friends
Within dusty depths she stirs, grinding stonework long interred
Loneliness is a moon-kissed clearing, Sweetest sorrow softly nearing
Years of love had been for naught, With a moment's hateful thought
Lex’s assurance that the Glade of the Forest Mother’s Daughters being “not far” proved relative to the speed at which she could travel upon her agile mount. For Leeria, forced to traverse the uneven and overgrown terrain on foot upon a gradually rising slope, it proved a far more arduous task, even for a Ranger of her skill. Upon multiple occasions the Fey and her steed were forced to alite upon a branch or jutting stone to allow their earth-bound charge to catch up, Diglo becoming more and more agitated as her slowness deprived him longer and longer of his promised reward upon their journey's conclusion.
She who walks the shores by night
I am sorry I have not written, I am sorry I am not seen, I am sorry I cannot hold your hand, While we face what might have been