Unburdened by a live body's weight, I had settled beside you last night in the innermost reaches of one of the deeper basin caves. With winter's breath filling the cavities of my breast and dead wings blanketing the cave floor, I had watched you drift at last into a contented sleep. Now, as the light of a new morning strikes the edge of the cave entrance and hits the darkest corners of my eyes, I curl my wings to rest beneath my flesh in a burst of the sun god's flame and awaken you from your slumber. The call of the Aurora Basin lady stings my ears, and in shock my teeth clench tight against what remains of my grey tongue.

The grunt that accompanies my slow rise to all fours releases the foam of festering blood, and with each staggering step towards the cave's entrance, the sour taste slides further down what remains of my throat. When I call your name it is a soft, urging command to follow, but every word tastes of my own fluid. Though you answer and return to my side, the sensation of your spine brushing past my ribcage is the command that drags me from the cave. I would obey you before the lady of this land any day, brother.

Still, if I am to be a part of a herd, to advise its king, I must attend even the most tedious of these mortal gatherings. I approach the gathered crowd from its edge, slowly brushing past souls without hesitation and casting a careful, protective look towards you. It is an odd collection that the Basin has gathered, it seems. My body presses faintly against that of the grey killer as I walk forth, feeling nothing strange. My pale eyes search to catch his for a moment; he is an impressive specimen, but I would be lying if I said I remember his name. Without pause, I continue my step until I stand closer to the front of the crowd.

As I have carried myself forth on tattered legs, I have made note of every word of caution. So the sand-spitters have decided to pick their fight, have they? Your body curls to sit beside me, your jaws widen with a yawn, and yet I never tire in this death-cursed state of mine. "The False Sultana's temper often leads her to act without reason, my Lady, but if you truly believe they pose a threat, then I'd think we'd be better hiding from their gaze for the time being. Kri is a paranoid warrior, even the slightest aggression against her herd could incite a war we've no need to fight ourselves," I hiss into the cold air of the Basin's frostfall daylight. "If the Grey are to be our allies, so be it. But until the World's Edge withdraws their alliance with the throat, I believe it would be unwise to show hostility of any kind," I speak with an even tone but a careful whisper. It is true that I desire war above all else, but with Frostfall high and the Dragon's Throat possessing such a strong ally, I would be a fool to advise it. No, their alliance must be severed before any true war began.

Of this, I am certain.

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