I heard a whispered dream of you

in the prayer of the stars and the hymn of the rain

She is out in the world, exploring this new land where her Gods have sent her, and trying to understand why they would cast her into such a frightening realm. The ocean continues to terrify her, mysterious and dark and unknowable as it is. It makes her new home an uneasy one; despite her desire to overcome her fear, the rain girl has carefully avoided the bluffs at the rim of the Edge. The very sight of the sea makes her dizzy, and she lives with a certain terror of falling off those jagged cliffs, tumbling to her doom. To a girl raised in landlocked mountains cut by crystalline streams, the murky endlessness of the sea is like a sky without stars, the stuff of stories told to children to instill in them a fear of sin.

So when the Call arrives she is conflicted, torn between her terror and her faith. What but a celestial voice could utter such cries that they both echo like thunder and whisper like wind, pulling at the strands of her hair and the strings of her heart? Noe is a Priestess, the Voice of Sky and Stars; she cannot deny the requests of Heaven, even if the God who summons is not hers. At the same time she is frightened, unsure, and for a moment she hesitates, poised in the precipice of indecision, her fear of denying a potential god at odds with her horror at the sight of the sea.

In the end she is a priestess, born and bred, and the girl cannot deny the strength of her faith. She drifts closer, hooves unsteady as they stumble through the sand, honey eyes looking everywhere but the sea. The sight of familiar faces emboldens her slightly- she smiles toward Erthë before setting out in Tilney's direction, the Moon Doctor a beacon of security in an uncertain world. How wonderful it would be to sing, to summon a soft shield of rain and hide herself from the cavernous sea! If only her gods had struck her down, slain her for her crimes instead of casting her into this hell! Painted coat shivers against the blasphemous thought; Forgive me, O Celestials, she silently intones, shame deepening the dark pit at the bottom of her stomach. You are wiser than I; I am but a voice for your beauty, a vessel for your hymn.

When she reaches Tilney she is exhausted, her sides heaving with heavy breaths, her body dark with sweat despite the chill. The girl's crowned head is bowed, and Noe's warm eyes remain fixed on her hooves, only shifting to peripherally confirm that it is, in fact, the tree-marked stallion who she stands beside. She can see the legs of others; she lets herself rise enough to spot a bloodstained flank before the idea of the ocean overwhelms her once more, and she is forced to look back down. Nausea churns in the pit of her stomach; she is dizzy, lightheaded, but she bites her lip and forces it down, shutting her eyes and pinning down her ears.

"Tilney," the Voice of Sky and Stars (but certainly not Sea) manages between labored breaths, her melodious voice strangled by her rising panic and tightening airway, "Have we been summoned here by a god?"