Sorrow is a perceptible thing. It holds a certain weight which noticeably drifts and drags, like the moors of boats in their harbor. It's said that misery loves company, and so this sadness that drifts in the harbor of the edge, attracts a creature rarely seen.

Its form begins to take shape in the scattered, ever-present fog - distant and dark, hazy and uncertain. It continues forward though, pausing from time to time, watching. It has never done this before, one can easily tell from its hesitation. It is not shy though, because it proceeds, guided by some unidentifiable resolution and source of courage. Duty perhaps, as it too guides the Sunshower and Nasreen.

It hovers on the brink of exposure as nothing more than a dark and looming shape. It's tall and thin, standing above either of them on four nimble limbs. It wears a crown of some kind, one that stretches like the trees in various directions and curves, strong, yet fragile, like the glass born of this land and its crafters. You've most likely noticed it by now, if not earlier, but you needn't worry, it does not move with threat.

It lingers only a moment longer behind its veil of mystique before finally breaking the barrier of their two worlds.
"Ehyyyyy'lo" it murmurs softly. The tone is gentle, but the sound is coarse and choppy. It shakes its slender head, something rattling in its crown of thorns. Something is amiss. It drifts closer, one long leg at a time.

A large stag comes to stand before you both, its body larger than those you may be familiar with, and surprisingly transparent. The beast seems to be made of the mist itself, more dense in some ways, but not solid and seemingly of a constantly changing viscosity. Its antlers are solid attachments of glass and ice, though moss and limp fragments of aged vegetation hang from them. Its eyes are a brilliant and rich blue, eerily whole among a face that is scattered and transient.

It stares for a moment, seemingly as transfixed by you as you likely are of it. It moves after a lifetime of stillness, its crown rattling as its head lifts, a stream of fog tumbling from its nose. The moisture trembles, a cloud of sound trapped within - his words. Ssoooooary, ehm 'ooooorse ussteeeee." He shakes his head once more, a derisive snort tumbling from his nose like soft snow. A cry soon follows suit, long and low it spreads across the air with a note of frustration.

"leeeeeeeese, he begs, dipping his head down low, no easy feat for him.

[Please tag the RE when you've both replied!]