He snored.

It was a tiny little thing, mere snuffles, really. But in the silence of the night, the downward blanketing of the snow, it is all she can hear. Leliel is silent in his slumber, and she watches them, clutched in the arms of Morpheus. Faces smoothed, lines eradicated, stress and curiosity alike washed away into blank slates of breed and composition of bone. She loves them, her heart a swaddle for their souls, keeping them cherished and warm even in the coldest of nights. Muriel had wanted to show Brigand the Northern Lights, the ones that had guided her when Leliel was gone and she had not known what to do next. Though Leliel could not see them, he went where she did, and the family had journeyed north to see the lights in all their beauty and glory.

Had Muriel known what would await her beneath the sky that would not hold them that night, she never would have journeyed out.

Instead, she breathes to the rhythm of her son's breathing, that cute little snore that made her heart ache with love and affection. She was a pure creature, too innocent for a tainted world, overwhelming any pain dealt to her with further forgiveness. Small, a whimsical creation of the gods, unloved by those of Helovia in her ignorance and foreign nature. But she had built something small - something broken and imperfect but good in her life. Late though it had appeared, she clung to it with surprising fervency, desperate to keep hold of the one piece of lasting good she'd been awarded.

Multitude of wings came forth, and she rustled into them, bringing the bridge of one over her nose much like a cat's tail. Nesting, the only one of the trio standing, primordial law taking hold. It was easier for her to be the one to watch over them, so boundless her energy, and with the only other adult in their little group blind. It was easy to let her eyes slip to a close, to fall into a half-slumber to the tune of her son's delicate breathing and the odd shuffle of feathers. They were all little monstrosities, quad-winged and vibrant. It was only right that they should end up together, cradled beneath the cold stone architecture.

From outside came the sound of hurried, racing hooves. It pervaded her mind slowly, the thumping of hoof against hard-packed snow, the swoosh of it as it was kicked into the night air with each passing. Grunting softly as she fell into a more awakened state, the bird lowered her wing and creaked open one lilac eye towards the shelter's opening. Waited, until she heard the heavy panted breathing of a newcomer. Her heart sank with worry for the soul - had they been chased, hounded, corralled into the northern reaches as they prey animal they still were? And then came the worry for her family, for if that was true, then they were also in danger, incapable of escape with the roost they had chosen.

Muriel had never considered herself to be brave, but a mother's love could do so much, and she shook out her feathers and quietly escaped into the snow. "Hello?" she called, eyes searching for whomever had disturbed the night. It took a moment to place, flickering against the snowline as the figure did, perfectly camouflaged. Advancing further into the snow she spread her wings, stretching them idly, trying to keep warm. And she can't tell if it's the lack of sleep or something else, but she gasps quietly when his eyes seem to go black - surely a trick of the light? - as he snaps to face her. "Are you okay?" It's a little shaky, trembling against her teeth as it falls from her mouth, chattering as if the cold has wormed its way into her bones already.