Look and listen very closely - for while Myrddin is quite tall, he moves with an eerie silence. It is almost as though the grasses and trees know that death lingers in his footsteps, and do not want to be wrongly plucked from life, when death does come to collect. For now however, Myrddin is quite alive, and with the return of the Moon, his sight has equally been returned.

He moves with a slow grace of an elephant, or some equally prehistoric and cumbersome creature. His coat is marred now by scratches and wounds which have begun to heal - likely from when the night was pitch, and his sight was completely removed. He had wandered far in that time, seeking answers to unspoken questions, such as Why have they forsake us? and Will it ever stop?. He had found answers to a few lesser questions - such as the extend of the darkness (endless) and its implications (sightless)...However, when the Goddess of the Moon returned without word or trumpet, Myrddin knew he had gone the wrong way. The answers were surely back in Helovia - not in the vast expanses of uncharted territory. And so, with his life-force seeing eyes restored, Myrddin had walked back.

Let us not make it more complicated than that - he will tell you what happened to him during that time I suppose, if you were to ask.

And now look - here he comes, as I said. Slowly. With the effort of age. Has he come back to the Basin? Will he take up residence in his cave once again?

At the sound of movement, Myrddin's ghostly gaze searched forth, spying the creature nimbly moving towards him quite quickly. In a land such as the basin, where so much is rock and ice, the life force of others pulses with a light unhindered by the baron surroundings. Her light pulsed strongly in her horn, and eyes, trickling through her body and creating the rough outline of her shape. Flaring his nostrils and drawing in her scent, Myrddin's enormous mind scoured its depths for where he knew it from. "I see you now, young one. In my own way." In his cave...her mother, Leyra wasn't it? Hadn't she met the mare while bathing? He thought so - but what truly intrigued him, would her undoubted knowledge of Mauja.

Gruffly he moved towards her with the pains of age, yet for all of his wrinkles and ghostly eyes, his face appeared kind as he looked down upon her. "We met in a cave I think...A cave I used to call my own, on the day Mauja returned. Tell me child - Frost Fyre , where is the Frostking?"

Myrddin's nearly translucent tail flicked idly behind his tall boney frame, as he regarded the young one carefully. He could only make out strong emotions, and had not yet mastered interpreting expressions. Alas, he was only slightly less blind then he used to be.