Xylo continued trekking forward, the soft gurgle of a stream approaching. The moonlight shimmered off of the icy cold water of the creek, sparkling to contrast the darkness around him. As he continued down the stream, watching the water flow slowly against his direction, he noticed a figure up ahead, an Aves.
It was River.
Standing in the moonlight, the rays of soft light from the moon seeping through the trees wherever it could navigate itself through the thick branches and leaves. Her cold grey eyes seemed to shine in the wake of the moon's presence, her hair and clothes contrasting it with the dark black she always wore. To mourn. Xylo wished he would allow himself to mourn. Perhaps it was calming. Reassuring. Or maybe it wasn't. He couldn't remember when he had mourned as a child, how it had felt like...he had forgotten it in the mass abyss of forget. He moved away from the river as he approached, not wanting to disturb her. She seemed to be contemplating something as was he, and disturbing that would be disrespectful to River. His eyes locked on her as he walked past, the pain that she felt becoming so blatant. He silently sympathized with her as he tilted his head downwards as he walked away from the river into the veil of the forest. He placed a marker on her using his power, to check she was okay, that no one would harm her. He had become protective, he had noticed. Was that good or something to be dreaded, he wondered. Questions swarmed his mind, invading it ruthlessly like an empire invading its enemy.
