He always knew this moment was to come. It was inevitable, as sure as the cresting of the sun in their mornings or the chilled, troubled tells of winter after fall. Gale, short of breath and exceedingly short on magic, is but a mortal, feeble man on hemorrhaging time. He had went about his days, that terrible orb sucking at his strength. Feeding it, he'd discovered, had a sort of diminishing pleasure... In fact, that fire that claims him is but heightening further. Hells. It is no longer tamable. It can no longer calm.
Gale looks at his amulet, that jewel nestled inside something pearlescent and as radiant as an opal. For weeks, he'd taken to study, a study of a nature with some unspeakable strain. Knocking the pole of her tent and peering inside, perhaps she'd discern this with the tells of his weariness... But, there: how humble his smile, and how tender his eyes. Gale, what's at last pulled you from your books? "This is an evening fashioned for more than one if ever I've seen one. May I come in?" he starts companionably, a grey hair made all the starker in the gleaming starlight. "Say, for all the dark of the shadows you would drape upon yourselfโand it is a charming shade on you, to be sureโI've been of the mind that the opposite is just as flattering. I've seen how the stars would rally in your presence, Serana. If ever there's to be a marrying of colors, it would be in the way they'd find you." Too much, Gale. He laughs, good humored apparently, and gathers himself again. "It's no mistake that you find comfort in the night. That said, I've wondered, it must grow terribly cold some nights. It's a far cry from the mornings, isn't it?"
@cldhrbour.
