My path had always been given to me. I was chosen early on to be a follower of the Moon, to worship her, learn about her lore, to bestow her knowledge on others. Born from the very mists of her lands, it was inevitable that I treated her with the reverence she deserved. It was easy for me, to live my long life, to repeat the habits again and again of seeking answers from her ethereal glow, to find comfort in the damp, misty confines of my home. I could not leave the World's Edge, for without it, I would lose a part of my soul. This was the reason why I did not actively seek a mate, nor a companion, nor did I pay much time towards forging friendships. I did not need to, not when my very soul mate was the Moon herself, and my very rank allowed me a connection with the lands that were created by the very breath of her wind.

But that did not mean I did not understand that such hopelessness, such emotions of loss and confusion were felt by others. I had indeed felt them before, but they were only passing notions, black specks to mar my eons of pristine worship. It was with a vague acknowledgement that in some, these seeds of doubt, in oneself or one's situation, could grow into something larger, something that swallowed the mind and stole its logical thought processes away. The very idea of it left a sour taste in my mouth, and I simply focussed and refocussed on my faith, my worship, made lal the more stronger now in the absence of the Gods, with a hope that my prayers might bring them back to us all the sooner. The path back from the Threshold was seemingly longer when there were no stars to guide one home, the lantern trees dangled in front of my as I made my way home, angling myself to the southern end so that I might drink from the cool waters of the Grove.

The glimmer was silver was easy to spot, his pearlescent hide caught what little light existed in the boughs of the nearby trees, and reflected it back to my violet pools. I paused my motion, my elongated tail swaying at my hocks as my horn pointed in the direction my eyes wandered over the scene. I tried to recall who I knew that was bonded to a silver dragon, and when I spied the equally pale, red-rimmed hide of a young hybrid standing by the pool, I thought I might have happened across my answer. I voiced my presence through a gentle nicker, not wanting to startle anyone in these tense, dark times, curling my nape downwards in an acknowledgement to her as I angled my path to run alongside her own, my muzzle reaching out to further disturb the water's otherwise crystalline surface. All the while, I searched my mind for the name of this femme - I know already that I have not met her, but it was not often that one bonded to ad dragon of ranking colour escaped fame for long - in my experience, at least.

"Greetings, child." My voice finally utters, after it has been wet by the lake's chilling waters. "And to you, silver one." My gaze drifts to the position of the dragon, the smile I wear creasing my eyes, allowing warmth to spread across my façade. "Might I know who shares the pool of the Grove with me tonight?" Was it night? The eternal abyss, the absence of light - and everything else we knew to be normal - seemed to be summed up well enough by the descriptor. Whatever time it was, whatever the cause for the change in our world, I would do my best to continue on, to worship, to revere, to live.

We would endure this.