The Sylvan Fay
Late Summer, X795
"Loitanelyë."
Her voice was like ice, her words like blades cutting into the depths of her mind even in her sleep-- no, especially in her sleep. It was the one place that which from her, Atani could never escape, and she basked in every glorious moment it gave her.
"Loituvalyë illumë."
That isn't true, she wanted to respond, but she couldn't. Not in this dream. Somehow though, Yuan could still understand her unspoken words.
"No? Then tell me, what has happened in Talaz Lagaar? Why do you run?"
Atani's hand curled to a fist. Her brows furrowed. In her sleep, her body twitched lightly.
"Manen norilyë?"
Manen norissë? They both knew the answer to that; Yuan just wanted to hear it from Atani herself. All the elf would have to do is think of the answer and she would know, but Atani wasn't about to give her goddess the satisfaction.