Erebos had settled the idea into my mind like a seed.  Over weeks, it had grown roots, but hadn’t managed to truly make itself known, hiding somewhere in my subconscious, waiting in the dark.
 
Then the rain had begun to fall.  Well, not literal rain, per say, but it was rain, well enough, cold and blinding, an endless drizzle that had relentlessly fallen for days, and weeks.  It still fell now, even though there had been brief moments that the clouds had parted away, and the sun had slanted in with an incandescence that never exists in an open sky; times like picking flowers with Tiamat, or laughing with Glacia, and what had come at that laughter’s end… 
 
Through the dreary drizzle of melancholy, those golden moments shone; though there was little else but the scant hours in the company of cheerful women, or caught in comforting conversation with my companion, which peered through the blurry haze that had been the rest of my days since my father’s passing, they were there, regardless. 
 
Between they, and the rain, that seed my blade brother had planted in my mind all those days ago had grown into an undeniable notion, a beguiling light shining in this abysmal gray world of mourning.  Even though thoughts of the mountain, of coming home, hurt, steeped with memories, and loss, as much as they are joy, and fond remembrance…
 
One hoof follows the other, mostly numb, a lack of sleep leaving my mind trailing between the vivid, real realms of my trailing thoughts, for the really real world, and the northern path I follow.  It’s a road I know by heart, one I could walk asleep, and it’s no wonder I can walk it like this, a shell which looks like someone who used to walk this road much more often than he has as of late, his own impishly glimmering golden eyes lack luster and empty.
 
The parted path into the hidden valley sticks out like a sore thumb to me, only because I’d had it pointed out to me at least a thousand times.  There is something so obvious about the secret way once you know of it that makes it laughable anyone misses it, unless you really remember the first time you met it from the outside, looking in, and as I pause and look at it, a vaguely mad smirk tilts my lips, before I shuffle onward.
 
Duir’s ears flick back, his mind searching mind with loud, mental rustles for glimpses of my plot, or course.  That I mean to walk into a stone wall is blasphemous, but my sleepless mind is also essentially an empty void, as well, and so he follows with hope that I’m not simply asleep, and still on my hooves.
 
This is all instinct, baby.
 
Through the crevice I slip, my buck curiously following behind me, his woodland eyes tilting up and back to admire its most clandestine guise even after we’ve passed through it.  Though I surely meant to pause within the threshold, and let everyone know I’m here, my gaze into the valley unavoidably brushes across the decaying bronze sentinels.
 
That empty void of my head fills up with hurt, suddenly.  Duir has enough time to look around at me with worry before I’m moving towards them, ambling, eyes wide, heart thudding.  They look like shit, but then again so do I, and for a moment, I ponder knocking them down, finishing the job the snow and wind have started, but hesitate.  Instead, I keep staring, and staring, waiting for the sorrow to ease, or the silence to end, but not doing much else, either.
 
Duir’s haunting, deer song rises, rather than my proud call, the clever buck discerning that I’m not likely to bring notice to us any time soon.

[ OOC:  Emo-loser would like to come home, if no one objects? :D ]