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Carry both of us Carry her, carry me In the skies he felt free. It was a place where he would always feel completely free. While in the sky, nothing could touch him. He was the master of the clouds as he soared high above the earth. The black sentinel was still battling with the death of his khal, and he took more often to the skies than he did while the fiery lord reigned. Einarr had been Gaucho's righthand bloodrider, and in a time of need he had abandoned him to search for his daughter. The liontailed stallion blamed himself partly for the Wildfire's demise. When the guilt and shame were especially heavy, massive black sails took to the wind and lifted him away from the world.
Beneath him, several dozen Helovians flooded to the Thistle Meadow. Dark amber eyes shifted downward with curiosity, his tail twitching behind him like the scheming feline it mimicked. Snorting, the tall stallion shifted himself and circled around the meadow in wide, slow arcs. Finally, when his cloven toes touched the snow laden earth, he caught sight of his youngest daughter. Vastra, he thought to himself, watching her as she placed a feather on the tree. Tilting his head some, Einarr turned and plucked one of his own loose feathers. With it gripped gently between his lips, the white-marked man trotted over to the tree, placing his feather next to Vastra's offering.
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if you bury me, i'll bury you
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