Vladstin whistled to himself as he nestled on a large barren tree, watching the stars and connecting them into shapes. His Min Libitino and his former murderer slept on separate tents that the former had set up, and the latter offered his own space for him.
Which is funny because he doesn't even need sleep.
He thrives in the night. He relishes it, being awake in the hours when normal humans would slumber. He is part of the night itself, a spawn of it.
Therefore, he rarely dreams. There is only that one strange.....
Was that a dream? A vision? A memory?
He was drowning.
People spoke in strange words that he could somehow understand.
Struck in the heart, blood mixing in the water.
Eh. Whatever it was, he could hardly care for it.
He wonders what his Libitino's favorite season is? Oh, or constellation! What constellation was he born under?
