Wren

Beset by the beasts already and weighed down by heavy plate and a morningstar I hardly knew how to swing..."

Never again. Their vow would protect them – would prove them more capable than that.

They realize they've lost focus on their surroundings, only striding forward and letting the weight of another's presence beside them keep them to their path. The warmth returns to their heart, bit by bit, as they focus on the sun over their skin.

"...Even then, I hardly swayed the battle.

"...Perhaps if we had been better focused we would have heard their approach; I was playing music for their amusement; or, had I been stronger I might have stopped the fall of our strongest; she might have protected the others.

Maggie and her compatriots heard us clash, but found only me."

I...

...we saw no recent sign of them and thought them to have passed. We chose to make camp while we still had the light, to pursue them further the next dawn."

And that does stand out to them. What occured was not in the depths of shadows, but in the evening shade of the forest.

making her opinions clear with her every action.

She'd now offered two at least. They won't force a third today, if they can help it.

"I fought alongside a troupe of young heroes, being little more than a glimpse of light myself. We sought a pack of wolves attacking travelers on the nearby road.

"You speak as if your opinion holds no weight. But... very well."

The telling of it is more daunting than the ears it will fall upon. When Faustine offered reassurance, they trusted it; even if they lacked all sense of insight, they doubted Faustine ever acted with too much subtlety,

Reignite the flame of hope.

that terrible night by far, and the first they've voice such worries to another living soul.

The realization leaves an odd sort of weight in their chest, not of dread or woe, but... of great consequence. They don't yet know what to make of it.

"The... ordeal was mere weeks ago. Perhaps it is arrogant to believe such fear could be easily shaken when others last a lifetime. But neither would I wish to be a coward. It is difficult to... to know where I must press on."

It occurs to them quite suddenly - this is the most they've spoken since

They search for the right word only briefly before deciding Faustine might be just as unmoved by a poor choice.

"...however irreverent its presentation.

I think there is a lesson to be heeded in your story." They'd considered it to the quiet accompaniment of footsteps and thuds of their staff.

"You need not stand on ceremony, Faustine. I took no offense." Their sidelong glance catches Faustine's, and their quiet smile past a curtain of messy hair shows honesty in their words.

"Concern and reassurance speak well of one's character, regardless of how..."

If her silence was a wound, it could hardly have healed so swiftly.

"...In truth, I find some shame in my fear. My faith in Amaunator should be steadfast in the face of Shar's embrace, and yet..."

Then again – were they not speaking as candidly after so long spent in isolated communion?

And yet, Wren could almost feel Faustine try to delve past the surface to seek depths beyond. If she would attempt it, they would make no effort to rebuff her. Truth inevitably found its way to light.

But they wonder at the sudden interest from a woman who had barely spoken the day prior.

"Were they thrown from one?" They could see reason in such a change as that.

Many would treat such an apparent trifle as fear without care or regard; few would seek further understanding, especially of an unfavorable stranger with naught to their name.

I will not, however, place my comfort above our work."

It's a difficult thing, balancing two opposing fears: the mystery of what lurks in shadows, and the anxiety of failing another teammate.

though it is not for a will to hide their feelings. Faustine has not seemed the sort to tolerate lamentations, & they're quiet as they decide how much of the story to offer.

"...I confess I am. It was not always so, but in recent days, recent twilights... I find it easier to travel under sunlight.

They look up as Faustine turns to face them, a wry smile on their lips. Their quarterstaff keeps steady time with their feet, easing the wear of the day's long march.

"Well, would that I had offered sooner. You're quite spirited this morning."

The question gives them pause,

I think..." And they do, giving the matter serious consideration before offering, "If we are near enough when night falls, I believe I am willing to press on, if the way is not treacherous."

Already, the day seemed to have a brighter start than the morning prior, nightmares and all. As before, they have little to ready, and when Faustine has prepared herself, they are already near the road awaiting her.

"Aye, with luck we will have more comfortable lodgings tonight.

"Well, if I have strength enough reserved for it come dusk, I shall take another look and mend what lingers, if it please you."

It was a start, they supposed, though they expected a lot more stubborn denial. They accept the food with thanks and quietly settle in to eat.

A rekindling of the ancient is set to bring a new dawn. If only you'd live to see it.

and return to the fire to sit beside it.

"I believe I have prepared well for our travels. If you have a waterskin you wish to fill, I can swiftly find a place to gather our fill.

...How are you feeling this morning?" They look up at Faustine as they broach the subject gently, softly.

linger too far into daylight.

They aren't sure. The voice that might have answered has long been silent, before even their birth – but they do not believe it to be gone forever.

The music gradually drifts to its end, echoing through the forest a little longer yet. They pad back down their path

As they play on, they feel the familiar, welcome glow of warmth that accompanies their prayer, and with it, relief. It usually found them far quicker.

Perhaps past dawn, it took longer to build the connection to their power; perhaps, they wonder, this was a reminder not to let the night's qualms

When you look at the stars, do you see poetry or do you see futility?

Through the trees, a gentle melody drifts back toward the camp from the small flute they keep tucked at their waist. The song gradually quickens, trilling with bright, sharp notes that ring above the others.

The song evokes the dawn itself, greeted by joyful songbirds.

They pray for simple things: assistance finding nourishment on their way, means to rebuke any attackers, and strength to lend the warrior in battle, should the day offer such trials.

And as Faustine cooks, they begin their communion.

...she didn't truly lash out when Wren, to their own assessment, pressed at a boundary.

Sunshine. There was more to the Dragonborn than she might have them notice; this seemed an unexpected connection. Time would tell just how deeply it ran.

Their thoughts turn to the day ahead and preparations.

staying within view even when they sit in the sun where it peeks through bushes and branches.

They take a moment first to consider their prior day. The road had been uneventful, but it would be foolish to believe it would remain so. Then there was Faustine, prickly as could be and yet...

"Thank you, Faustine," they repeat with more attention paid to their companion. "I shall not be long."

It isn't difficult to see that the suggestion of prayer isn't a comfortable topic for her. Wren collects their quarterstaff and strides a short way from the clearing they slept in,