Latyurik knelt alone on the open ground beyond his pavilion. The sky was afire on the western horizon, lit by late evening's corona of sunlight, though the star itself was barely in sight. There were thin clouds above, too high and whispy to do more than obscure the celestial heavens.
Nizanue waded in a pool of fleecy-white. Latyurik's eyes were firmly upon her, his scarred hand open in his lap. As he watched with a clear mind, he felt as if one eye fell firmly on the darkness, and the other looked upon the thin crescent of light remaining to Alune.
-your ambitions are small-
"Wolfhelm will be mine, there is still time left, no?" Latyurik thought aloud.
-Time is of the essence. You have other tasks besides one shifter city-
"Pah! I have all the time in the world! I am Rik the Invincib
