[Jaydan would like to quest for a bird companion, a female Gyrfalcon specifically. I assume being flighted this would be best for the moon god to answer then?

As part of the Throat, and being champs this month they have the 2 veins opportunity. So if his first roll fails, if you could roll again and see what that provides please? Obviously if both fail, that's just luck of the die :P]

Sleepless nights and waking nightmares had begun to drive the gelding half-mad. Grief wracked his heart and sent cold splinters into every fiber of his being, so that moving, standing, being was a painful endeavor. No one else seemed to understand. How could they? Had any of them had the chance to experience their soul being torn apart by the loss of their lifelong companion, of their childhood friend and closest, truest ally? It didn't matter what Luin had been, she had filled his heart in all the places it had been empty and she had merged her soul with his - even if in a different manner than happened here with Helovia bonds and companions.

It should have killed him when she passed. Only by unlucky fate had he survived and been subjected to suffer living in her absence. Something alike nobility or honor kept him from taking his own, trying that had only broken an innocent mare's wing and left him with a terrible image of Luin's disapproval. That had wrenched what little portions of his heart were left and scattered them to the wind as he fell.

Talking didn't help. Everyone thought him mad, dramatic, childish.
Working helped some. Eventually work ends though.
Sleeping did not happen. She haunted him behind closed eyes and before open ones. She drifted like a cruel ghost in memory and hallucination, in longing and fear.

Reality had begun to slip away from the beast and he feared the reckless actions he might begin to take in his hysteria. He liked to pretend he was getting better, surely he was a bit improved from that day he'd screamed at the sky and sobbed in the presence of complete strangers.

It was all a lie though.
He was suffering, and though his wounds were not of the flesh, they stung all the same.

Only the recent arrival of Xira with her lovely falcon, one that reminded him of the hunters in Salka, and the conversation with their oracle Cassiopeia of the gods and magic in these lands, had given him any glimmer of hope. There was a void in him, and though it could never be as it was, Luin could never be replaced, Jaydan could only hope that stuffing something else in that gaping hole might help staunch some of the agony.

Drenched in sweat, the remains of a night spent tossing under the stars rather than sleeping, Jaydan flew towards the mountain of blue fire that Cassiopeia had mentioned. The gods, how little he knew of them, but he had always respected them even if he acknowledged them little. He was a warrior through and through and did not dabble in the mental least of all the spiritual sides of this culture, much less his own. He just happened to know more of his own, not that it helped him now.

With his stomach sagging in his throat and threatening to fell him from the sky with the oppressive weight of the depression it brought, Jaydan flew like a wayward bird to a tall mighty tree he probably shouldn't perch on. With a scattered, scrabbling landing, his hooves sending rock and dust flying, Jaydan landed at the plateau of the shrines. Below the ocean roared and the lava hissed. Beyond, dawn was suggesting its break.

Uncertain of whom to call to, knowing only the Sun favored his herd land, Jaydan called out to all of them, any of them, perhaps none of them. With wings spread he bent low on his forehand, horn pressing into the cold terrain, his jeweled trinket tied there clinking against the rocky surface. Were he a better horse he would have offered it as payment, but it was the last thing of Luin he had, and he could not give it up. Prayer would have to be enough, prayer and insanity were all he had left to give.

"Gods, I call your help. I, Jaydan, Warrior of the Dragon's Throat of Helovia, new in Isilme, Soldier in Salka with Luin, seek end to my pain." His speech, less than eloquent in his unfamiliarity with their tongue (would the gods know that of his homeland?) was further made pathetic as palpable desperation and threatening sobs lanced the tones. On the ground the blue jay shuddered, his body shaking his feathers into a rising music of misery and despair. If they would not answer, he would sit here and turn into wind and dust, and that was fine by him.