Over the yawning jaws of the mountain range, an endless howling song rose.

The mountains themselves appeared to encompass the whole world; through them, around them, rising above them, on went the haunting threnody. Conducted by the myriad fingers of the wind, and by the peaks and troughs of stone and earth. Setting the tracks on whatever train of thought coursed through here, driven by passing, observing parties.

To any inhabitants? It could vary. Shelved aside as another component of life, whether as something to admire, to be annoyed at or to ignore entirely--or to honour, even worship whatever being could create such ethereal, terrifying song.

Some were a mixture of both.

Some just didn’t want the wind and the rocks and their eternal playtime to keep them awake any longer.

From the view of one looking over the mountains, one dark patch wouldn’t appear too different from the others. Shades blending with an equally dark overhang, icicles arranged like bared fangs--the entrance therefore wound up quite camouflaged among patches of scrub, scraped-out screes, and areas bare of snow. It would have been quite the cosy little place, even without six tangles of bodies taking up most of it.

Coming to conclusions over the constant noise outside had its own intrigue, certainly. But plenty could be said over those of flesh and bone who actually walked the land and flew the skies. Rock-studded skin and glamorous wings: what stories did these tell without any of them even opening their mouth? Muscles, height, demeanour? None of those gave much away in regards to the dynamic.

Hard to describe based on appearance--the three winged parties here being the ones in this system that slept in cagier, more deferential positions was coincidence alone. Nothing pointed to bad blood between the two different types of...well, blood that were on display here. They’d found the arrangements that made sense, the titles that worked. They liked them. So they were the labels to use.

If anyone wanted to talk behind their backs, they could. They knew it wasn’t anything worth their time...and anything said to their faces could be thrown back with full force. It was practically an invitation, if it ever occurred. Not like they were the only ones who did it, anyway, using these labels. Ring could count at least four more off the top of his head.

Not that any of them tried to bother with problems that weren’t actually staring them in the face...or rather, they tried not to, anymore. Deal with what caused you trouble in the moment: that was what they aimed for, earthen and airborne alike. Namely one that didn’t exactly ebb and flow like the ones their minds conjured up, that being holding out in an environment that would freeze a polar bear’s blood until they were able to set out for potentially warmer climes. A trial for fire and earth elementals and exotic birds. The pinnacle of comedy.

When you were having to walk practical marathons just for the chance of finding running water, it was hard to find the humour in it.

...And yet it emerged at times. The feeling of having made progress every...inexact measure of time may have played a part, but regardless. The idea alone of having left the major pitfalls behind was encouraging...and minor moments of more ephemeral bothers often fell into more amusing outlooks like this. Maybe they’d snapped. Could’ve been it. Something about laughter being the best medicine? Well, it was found in some fairly stupid circumstances, but when it could be drawn out, it worked.

Not that poring over these things mattered to any of them right now. Passing the gates through to dreamland took up their attention at present. And the fact that it took up energy to do so appeared odd, thinking about it, but thinking about it also needed energy that no-one wanted to spend.

Unfortunately for them, the whimsies of this ‘life’ were often ones far beyond their control. The night still had tricks up its shadowy sleeve, and whether coloured as a trial or just as a plain annoyance, one was coming. Unhindered. Nor did whatever hypothetical deity or sentient locus out there care in particular that this unit had spent but a scant few minutes in dreamland prior.

Something was going to happen. Whether illusionary or immaterial.

Or relatively...everyday.

Ring had faced plenty of early awakenings before--from things not as ‘in one’s face’. Generally. The roof threatening to cave in while never actually doing so. Demo breaking into a full-on conversation with some unseen correspondent, or Edit’s voice experiencing some subconscious exercise through fragmented birdsong. His two older siblings coming to a decision over who got to control their shared body for the next hour or so. The sky filling with monsters out of nowhere and necessitating either practice of their fighting capabilities or--more likely--their skill and speed at making tracks. All your everyday whimsies.

The variants that rose from their group weren’t often violent ones. That may have been what wrested Ring from the piecemeal dregs of rest so quickly. It wasn’t Brooke’s snoring, or one of the parrot boys talking, or Carraig’s snoring and talking that did it. Not this time.

It was Dots’ legs flailing against him, in a blur of kicks and twitches all looking close to nailing Carraig in the head before the part-bird was even awake, and claws grinding along the floor like the choir outside were trying to bring their ghostly voices into their very souls. The sound of something slamming into the walls, more than once, seeming far from controlled. It was sudden. Unsettling.

Nauseating.

Carraig’s mumbling was cut off as her waking motion introduced her head to the nearest wall. Edit was up, staring in silence. A scaly tail slapped the floor next to him as Demo’s limbs jerked in confusion. The remaining body-shaped form in sight twitched slightly, but didn’t otherwise move.

Honestly...good. Ring didn’t want to deal with either of his older siblings right now. Better they be ignorant than have something unwarranted to throw his way...or worse, at Dots. The part-elemental tried to focus on his pet, even while shaking off the tiredness that only now wanted to come to him.

What could be heard of the figure’s breathing was that nauseating stop-and-start hiccupping kind, the one that made the throats of any listeners clutch in turn. Scales ground the rock as he shifted around. It was a persistent noise. Muted yet so audible. The glitz of plumage that should never be seen in such sun-scorned lands...god, were they counting down the hours until they could leave this place for good.

As evenly as he could, Ring hoisted himself up on his arms, squinting at the shuddering mass of feathers in the entryway.

“S...s-suh...suh, sor--”

Quiet as it was, it shunted aside all other sounds for just a moment. The silence let the attempt echo, almost mockingly. It fought to leave his lips. The syllables tangled with his tongue, refusing to coalesce.

Then he turned away, feathered arms shimmering like a chainmail coat, and even over the confused sounds of the other half-awake parties in the cave the arrhythmic click of talons could be heard, heralding his unsteady departure.

The other argumentative tongues in the cavern seemed content enough to defer to him in moments like this. Go figure. All their talk and pomp, wide-eyed at any opportunity to get one up on him in debate or danger or both--or rather, that they perceived as such--all as substantial as a shadow in a snowstorm once an issue like this arose, despite the equal strength it held to such threats, and the real risk of it getting to the others and making someone do something dangerous, unfair and, worst of all, stupid.

Never a dull moment, was there?

His sister watched him trying to shake some awareness into his muscles. “Hey, don’t yell at him too loud, yeah? Some of us are trying to get some sleep.” But she glanced at the trail of uneven footprints, and the set of her jaw suggested some genuine concern.

This wasn’t at the forefront of Ring’s mind, as he was striding toward the entrance even before he was fully awake.

“Demo, watch Edit,” he called over his shoulder as his feet began to crunch through frosted earth, and realised, on the way out, unnecessarily--even the largest illusionary rip in this damned Plane wouldn’t keep those two apart--and passing from one cold darkness to another, took a gulp of bracing, bitter air, glancing over as a fan of blue feathers disappeared in a blur of disturbed snow.

Every time he braved it, he seemed to forget how truly vicious this environment was; it was glad enough to brand it back onto him. It was like some mountainous monster was deep in its own slumber, and letting its freezing slobber and sighs roll all over them. He could feel a part of himself wither as he muttered under his breath, reaching among the stones on his belt without even looking at them, and even a bit of warmth returning to him and his fingers jerking around less didn’t help with the deeper issue a whole lot.

He would prefer Dots to be conscious when he dragged him back.

Jewelled wings whirled as the figure fought to keep its balance, scattering plumes of white in ironically elegant arcs. A longer pair of feathers twitched like ears, at the equally clumsy footsteps behind him--Ring KNEW he could be heard--and started off again, heading up the slope.

Ring snarled, mouth opening to issue a command...then he faltered, watching his breath rise away in icy spirals. It wouldn’t be that simple. Dots would come, obedient as he was, and would fall back into silence as they returned to the roost. It wouldn’t get down to the root of whatever problem this was. Covering the pitfall, not filling it.

“OI!”

Well, it wasn’t any kind of demand, but it still didn’t help much. Ringtaw clenched his fists.

He tried again, and winced at how jagged every word still felt. “Dots! Come on! Stop fucking MOVING! How is running off and practically dying out here gonna help anyone?”

His own brand of reassurance. For sure. Did anyone close to him even know that by now? His siblings, when they felt like acknowledging it? Any of his pets, much less the one running from what could be the slightest of nightmares?

...Which he knew by now to treat as if it were the worst, most horrifying, near-apocalyptic thing ever. Ridiculous as it came across to a mind that could mull it over unhindered, it was what it was, and it worked. It helped Dots. That was what mattered.

As far down as he needed to push any outward, contrary thoughts. They weren’t his anymore. They weren’t him. This wasn’t about him, for fuck’s sake...

Even if the wind was carrying his words towards Dots, it was also carrying away any response. And even then, it was damned loud. Wasn’t as hard to yell over now, though. He could pick out a cobalt beacon amongst the swirling storm. Was he growing that capable? Seemed to have changed around quickly...

Yes, storming over the incline, red in both the face and in aura, baring his teeth with every step. That would be so much more reassuring...

His foot plowed right through a mound of snow. There was nothing underneath.

Ring yelled something that the wind soon snatched away...and found himself crouching instead of falling. With the grinding of snow and grit and ice along his leg seeming to dwindle by the second.

The pressure was increasing, however--and the brunet yanked his limb free, and watched in silence as one of his own footprints was swallowed entirely by his toe. He backed off, thoughts not focused on his safety exactly, the snow beginning to melt faster under his hands as they gripped the cliffside for balance.

Had he done this? Had the world itself noticed his meagre attempt at restoring a little comfort to himself and piggybacked right off the presence of magic, or diluted chaos as it may well actually be? Ringtaw swore under his breath, the massive plume of condensation seeming to spike in the air before him, so thick and strong as it plowed through the tiny swirls of snow--this wasn’t exactly the best of illusions to be caught up in right now, was it? How could you calm someone down when your fingertip alone could pulp them like a bug?

Case in point being that his muttered profanity wasn’t as quiet as it should have been, giving the increasing trembling, glancing around and hand-wringing from Dots as the part-bird crouched below him--now easily seen against the expanse of brown-scudded white.

Damn it. Watching one of his sisters stumble and eat shit after one of his footsteps caused a veritable avalanche over them? That suited him just fine. That was fun. Having to don the figurative kid gloves over a pet that could never just straight-up tell him what was wrong? At least not without...

The pillar of brunet stood firm, shoulders squared. He knew what he had to do. It made him want to take his temporary physical boost in strength and start breaking the nearest mountain in half with it.

A quick look to one side confirmed that the cliff was no longer dwindling, and a careful clench of his fingers tried to clinch it. Ring wrinkled his nose as boulders smaller than his fingernails were scraped loose, cascading down the mountainside.

His pet’s whimpering was still audible enough.

“Dots.”

That tone of voice instantly shut the fidgeting figure up, to his Master’s mingled relief and annoyance--why, so often, did he have to descend to this base level of orders--

“Making this clear. I wanna know what’s up, and I just want a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ answer, you got it?” Having relatively settled into this new position, he’d become aware of the environment trying to wrest back its control. These thousand-strong little claws of ice trying to rake at his skin and draw him back to easy warmth, supposed comfort...

...And to a fresh wave of frustrating theorising over what he could have done, what the two of them could have figured out. No, Ring knew not to take any proffered hands like those by now. Not travelling the easy-looking path was a taxing choice, sometimes. Difficult as any other part of life. But just as vital to it.

White continued to fall on Dots’ head and tense shoulders. Under his snow-dusted, blue-hued fringe, a frantic eye darted about.

...Oh.

“...You can tell me now,” growled Ringtaw. Fucking hell. “Right, you had some sort of dream that fucked you up. That right?”

“Ye-yes, um, yes, sir--”

Not now. “Just ‘yes’ or ‘no’. Swear to god. This is on you. No--” This was never going to get any easier, was it? “Not what I meant. I meant this was your problem. Your thing. We need to fix it. I will, I mean, it’s not your fault.”

Dots gave a violent nod, before his eyes widened.

“Yeah, you can just nod, then. Don’t worry. It’s fine. Okay. Dream fucked you up?”

Another nod; one overly measured.

“And what was it, if you can tell me?”

Only the wind answered.

“...Which you can, now. Shit.”

“Right, well, um. Yes. Well, it’s...I don’t think it’s anything, well, exact, but the things I can remember, not so much at the time, during it, but afterwards…” Dots shook his head, the displaced snow already being replaced, and blinked several times.

He looked up, trying to meet Ring’s lofty eye, and soon glanced away again.

“Things just come back. And stick. Like…I can’t hold onto them, but they’re there. A lot’s about you. Okay, pretty much all of it. Nothing specific? But it feels important, like I have to do this thing for you, or else...or else, something, don’t know what. Maybe it’s life-or-death. I mean, can’t say which is worse, one or the other, and, well...being able to die at your hands...or your feet...or whatever, it’s not so bad, more like an honour, really, nothing less, can think of far worse things…”

Ringtaw just nodded, expression neutral. He wasn’t going to acknowledge that last part. Not now, at least.

“But I guess, like, the bad part, the strong part is...well. It’s nothing. I mean, literally. Nothing. I’m not sure if I’m even here. I look down and I see myself, and I can feel myself breathing, and all, but everything’s just...like, carrying on. Around me. And I’m feeling it all go by. I’m not...seen. I’m not acknowledged. Not by you, not by anyone. And I can’t say anything or do anything, and even if I can it just, it seems stupid.”

More rocks suddenly crashed down past him. An enormous gust of air sent the snow spiralling.

“It’s the nothingness.” Dots began speaking faster. “Like, giving myself wholly and entirely to someone, I thought it’d be something, but I keep having this doubt, it won’t go away.” Briefer pauses for breath. “It’s feeling like I’m just nothing, and I’ll always BE nothing, to everyone and myself and I don’t know what I can do to stop it, if I can do anything at all, I just don’t know…” His hands wrung furiously. Gulping down air, his eyes darted. “I don’t want to be so bold, so presumptuous, but I have to, please, I’m so sorry--”

He stumbled forward, scrabbling at the curled fist in front of him, trying to embrace it with his whole shivering body.

“Am I…” He swallowed. His eyes were glistening. “Am I anything, to you?”

It was quite the sight to any outside observer, that of a body the size of a cliff face holding itself statue-still. What thoughts it could inspire.

A huge head held straight, mouth opening and closing; a tongue darting across its lips. Limbs like tree trunks bent as the figure stayed crouching. A ball of feathers shuddering underneath, the snow fighting to settle on it.

Looking back on their trek through this endless expanse, this emotional explosion didn’t seem quite so out of left field. Something had flashed in the avian’s eyes in many an awkward glance. There had been moments of unease distinct from those relating to the situation, but ones that he’d refused to elaborate on at all. He’d brushed them aside, told himself he’d get them out of him when he was ready, and...never got around to doing it. Was it deliberate ignorance? Or some attempt at going easy on him? He hoped beyond anything that Dots hadn’t taken it as cruel…

And why had it all poured out now? Had it built up for too long? Had his newfound size drawn out something vulnerable instead of just intimidating it? That cursed cold and sinful wind forcing some deeper fear out before it? Giant fingers closed on snow in such a firm grasp that it hurt.

When you walked these grounds, it was easy enough to believe that the only truth existed behind your eyes. Your mind the only thing you could hold onto. And looking back on those hours, it was just as easy to grimace at however long it took for you to realise that it was far from a safeguard against anything, and just as susceptible to doubts and delusions--things you had to learn all over again on the Plane. The sheer, uncompromising walls of a crevasse, like an endless multifaceted maze to fall through, forgotten.

Ring, in the back of his mind, was far from a stranger to these creeping thoughts.

Yet that wasn’t the main reason why he bent down further, not quite looking the bird demi in the eye as he began to speak.

“Right, Dots, I’m not sayin’ this is gonna help change things around in, like, one little speech, but I’m still gonna say it. What you mean to me...I can’t even start to describe it. But believe me when I say it’s plenty. You think I’m just sayin’ it, and I feel that way too, but I can prove it. WE’VE been provin’ it. Together, over however the fuck long this dumbass journey’s been, however long it’s gonna take us.”

He felt the tiny body flinch against his fingers. Felt Dots duck his head against his skin. Didn’t expect to feel one type of cold stand out among the rest, but...

...No. Don’t cry. Damn you, don’t you fucking cry, thought Ring as his thumb lifted, gathering the little drops with precision and gentleness that surprised him, and not just because of his size.

He could face off with ravenous beasts over five times his current dimensions; he could work his way out of mazes both metaphysical and material with enough energy left to throw some shade back in their face afterwards. He could look the storm in the eye--the metaphorical one, obviously, as the real eye didn’t hold its own danger--and blow it off. But, god almighty, did the sight of tears in his pet’s eyes seem like the greatest of challenges for the part-elemental to acknowledge, yet alone address and overcome.

“And...and I know it’s tough shit, everything we’ve dealt with, and whatever’s gonna jump out on us in the future or whatever, but it’s more proof, isn’t it? That we, like...we do need each other. And there ain’t a second I go by without thinking that. Guessing you do too, but there’s all that...doubting crap to deal with, and it’s a lot…” He just felt like he was rambling, now. They were similar enough in that regard.

Hoping that if he poured enough out, eventually some of it would be helpful. Some ‘masters’ were said to have a touch of gold; he heard out those claims with an ass’ ears. God, did he wish he could just speak things into truth. These pads only poured out pyrite.

But even fool’s gold held its value on the surface. If you wanted it to. Down deep, it was common-or-garden, but would everyone want to dig that far, if they were satisfied enough with what lay within reach?

Taking a gamble, he brought a fingertip under the avian’s chin, and felt the tension and attention from him as he carried on. “Not just me. We all know it. We got our own ways of sayin’ it. And provin’ it. See, you know Demo and Edit would throw their lives on the line for each other, without a word to start it off? It’s like that. Brooke and Judet, too. Funny, the conflict bringing us all together, but trust me. They care just as much.” ...Real deep down, but that’s not the point. “Carraig...yeah, Carraig too, just don’t bother asking straight-up.” Not that you would, put in his brain with an amused hint.

He could still feel the little pricks of moisture on his tense digits, despite the iridescent patch of hair hiding Dots’ face from his view, and bit his lip as the snow continued its ceaseless dance around their world. His other hand drew around his pet’s body, feeling every little shiver seem to shake his monumental form in turn; he brought both hands closer, wanting to protect him from...so many things.

The gesture was like a beam of sunlight, straight into his lethargic brain through the chills and howls.

...In all honesty, it was just as much an inopportune illusion as any other, but damn it, Ring would take advantage. Narrowing his eyes slightly, he felt one of the stones on his belt give a jolt in response to the mental net he’d flung out; exhaling, he prepared to conduct the heat towards--

A weight flopped down over his knuckles. “Nuh...no. No, sir.” And Dots draped himself over his fingers, hugging them as if all the warmth he needed was radiating from them alone.

Realistically speaking...the giant switched the tracks on that train of thought. Placebo was fine enough; not only that, but he just didn’t want to argue anything with his pet on these grounds either. He wanted to cast the charm anyway, and watch the cursed blanket around them unravel into water too. Two birds?

But he didn’t, and only quirked his lip. “Oi. Ungrateful.” But the smile was in his voice, and he let his fingertips rest over the sprawled part-bird, index finger sliding over slack shoulders and bushy hair with the greatest of care.

All he touched grew lax, as if his pet were sinking into him. Becoming part of him...as if they weren’t bound together already. He wanted to take him up in his hands so badly, brush away all the snow and stress; bring his hands to his chest, enfold him in the warmth of his body, the beat of his heart. Too sudden, though. Didn’t want to jolt him out of his recuperating reverie. Nor run the risk of hurting him, picking him up so suddenly. Or by even speaking at all, right now.

God, this size difference was a mixed bag.

But it didn’t seem as off-putting as it first was. Without the practical warfare of their voices and minds, stirring up the proverbial storm even more, things felt like they were settling. And with his non-augmented temperature, and measured movements--Dots was calling the shots. Fancy that. Ring’s smile hadn’t left him, and his careful petting hadn’t ceased. The avian’s heartbeat seemed so strong for its relative size and rate, measuring out its own time. Ring acknowledged it, but wasn’t as fussed on how much time had passed. The moment was all that mattered.

It was a weighted silence that fell over them. Or apparently did. The noise around them had seemed to bow out for a moment, and the in-and-out of air through their lungs felt as if someone else entirely were willing it. The giant’s hand had shifted to cover the curled form again, a shield of warmth against the wind--if it hadn’t stopped wailing in Dots’ ears, then it soon would--and rested not only in reassurance but in powerful promise against whoever or whatever would cause them harm.

He’d let every hint of tension in those muscles diffuse into his curled hands. Was steady and ready for anything to try and set them off. Could feel a little heart thumping away. Crouched here, against the windy weight of the world, so aware of his companion’s life and energy...something about it made Ring’s own heart rate pick up. They’d come so far. However long to go, they’d made it this far. So far. So proud. He felt so proud.

He closed his eyes, sighing heavily, and stayed that way for a moment. Feeling the tiny presence above anything else, against him, with him. The smallest dashes of warm breath across his skin. The feel of feathers tickling his fingertips, dozens at a time brushing back against his rubs.

And the distance between them soon beginning to dwindle away--or perhaps it had been this whole time, and he hadn’t been aware--placing Ringtaw on the rough level of Dots once more.

It was orchestrated with such precision it was laughable. Ring could practically hear the victorious chimes. Mission success. Challenge accomplished. Where was his rosette and wine?

While he couldn’t feel his constant state of frustration too heightened at present...or at the very least, was refusing to acknowledge it. Only slinging an arm around the feathered shoulders of his pet, the attempted casualness of the movement soon offset by him stumbling with how quickly Dots nestled in closer to him.

The ‘re-risen’ avian’s face still stayed covered, a mop of radiant, feather-threaded hair shaking slightly as he tried to bury himself in Ring. The only sign of movement from him at all.

Ring’s fingers continued to weave their way through blue plumes and hair, steadfast in working their magic even as he looked around with increasing unease.

Even if his pet needed time to regain himself, the part-elemental couldn’t bear remaining out here for longer. He wouldn’t admit to it being that way, but either the sudden dispelling of the illusion or the weather coming back into his awareness had made that seemingly sentient storm start to bite back at them both with conviction. Plus, he just didn’t want to.

It was annoying.

He wanted to sleep.

But dragging him back felt too much, even if it was in his best interest, and the brunet cleared his throat. He wanted to do this without any selfish, harsh thoughts at the forefront of his mind (which left them pushed down, to be dealt with later, but if the Plane wanted to do anything to help out with that he’d be all ears). He still couldn’t see the other male’s face, but assumed he was listening.

“Right, not gonna assume everything’s all hunky-bloody-dory now, but I’m hoping it’s a little better at the very least. Probably won’t help, us freezing out here, though.” He paused, frowning at himself, then tried again. “And these things, I know it’s tough but you tell me about them, alright? There’s shit you deal with yourself, and this ain’t it, I don’t think. I’m not your dad or nothin’, but I need to help you out with this shit. Anyone else carrying on with us--those assholes back in the cave, and all--they prop us up just like we do with them. So you let them know that. And make ‘em certain.” And, a little too quickly, “Otherwise I’ll rip them in bloody half.”

A smile was trying to gain ground on Dots’ quivering lips (he could feel it against him, and he couldn’t stop his feet shifting around) and he didn’t even feel like getting on his case.

“But, yeah. Was it me being a fucking giant, or?” His own chest was starting to shake, and not just from the weather. “I mean, you always seem a bit sketchy ‘round me. Didn’t help, you being smaller than--”

“Stop iiit,” the avian demi whined, giving Ring an ineffectual shove that soon turned into more clinging. Practically joined together by now, the two of them were, and feathers shook off the snow almost as an afterthought.

“Either way,” the elemental drawled, to no-one (visible) in particular, “that was a nice try, world. Better luck fucking us over, next time.”

Streams of condensation marked their quiet trek back up to the hoary ‘homestead’. Ring’s mind buzzed enough afresh to make up for it; he tried to cast the innumerable little worries away from the long-term ones, and found a distinct lack of tension in his shoulders. Dots’ troubles this time had been hard enough flames to fan, and extinguishing them was a hope far in the future. The conditions they were living in? No less.

But that wasn’t a problem for the present party.

The siren song drawing them in was the slightly less flattering one of Brooke’s unbroken snoring. To the two snow-dusted figures, though, it called to them regardless. Ring found himself going in first, his pet situated behind him and shielded...wondered why he’d done that, knowing the threat likely wouldn’t lie in there...and shrugged it off, carrying on through the motions anyway as he took in what they’d left behind.

Like a snapshot. An unaltered diorama. Demo slumped over as if he’d conked out mid-step, Edit coiled around him as if his rest were uninterrupted in entirety--must be great, being you, butted in Ringtaw’s brain, only to be angrily disregarded with equal haste. Brooke’s back to them all, shoulders twitching on occasion. Carraig propped against the wall, breathing steady. The space he’d vacated still very much...spacious. Not stolen for one, and seeming to meld around him like resettling water as he edged his way back in.

He’d known this ragtag bunch for so long now that he could hazard at their current state of mind from the most minute of things. Things that seemed unconnected to present events on the surface; things others likely wouldn’t notice--or hold in regard, if they did. So he was aware enough that his sister was very much awake, and had begun to slip back off into dreamland since being aware of his...awareness.

It kicked off the sensation of having truly felt the ripples settle, even after he’d told himself they had already. This one little thing that Carraig had done, likely not thinking much of it herself: it built up, paradoxically calming in its suppressive cloud and casting an ever more powerful shroud of drowsiness over the cavern.

What captured it whole and heartily was a ticklish feeling against his skin as quills brushed over it, soon followed by the weight of a body dropping onto him to squeeze another rush of air through his lungs.

One that flew free so easily, letting the part-elemental feel the atmosphere of partial calm enclosing them bit by bit. It bore down alongside the domineering yet reassuring weight atop him, the short puffs of air across his neck, and that familiar certainty he couldn’t put a name to but didn’t want to question either--that of having dealt with everything that needed to be dealt with, and joined by the knowledge that anything else could just fly clean over his head and he wouldn’t care.

As if he’d stepped into a hot spring, Ring’s chest slackened and breath eased; he was very much aware of the chill attempting to dig its persistent little fangs back in, and the grounding pressure of Dots joined the factors that held it at bay. Fingers wound gently through soft plumage, stroking, and felt the tension practically melting off of those slackening feathers and muscles as if the part-bird had joined his steamy fantasy to rest.

He considered the stones again...before the net of limbs around him tightened in apparent response, and a mouth murmured something against his neck. Strung together by slurred words and a moaning tone, but the intent and desire was evident enough. And he acquiesced. He didn’t make a move to stop Dots as feathers blocked his view of the belt. Let no objections pass his lips as wiry legs draped over his own. No need to conjure up the warmth.

Ringtaw’s head was free of that frustrating buzz, by now.

Looking at the bowed head, framed in iridescence as it rested in his lap, such malformed what-ifs seemed so far away.

And the speed at which the untroubled calm of sleep took him rivalled that of his pet.