[DROP] ar hyd y nos

RORY

Rory had ventured into the Greatwood a grand total of two times.

Both had been disasters, and last time, he had sworn off ever going back into it, which likely pleased both the Fae and his Queen. And honestly, Rory was happy to not go into the fearsome, vivid woods—his life was in the Hollowed Grounds. His life was his farm, his goats, his ponies, the never-ending, repeating cycle of keeping himself and his animals fed. It was work that would never be over, and it didn't leave much time for traipsing into danger, or being gone for more than half a day at most.

But then he heard the most haunting and sweet melody he had ever heard, one that bewitched his heart and not his mind. The dreaming wolf in him raised its head, scented the wind, felt the beauty of the call: and it answered, a longing howl that was only silence.

His body itched to throw itself onto the back of the black mare, but he feared what the Fae would do to him—to her—if he rode her into the woods, so he set off on foot instead.

He went at a rapid pace, the forest becoming a blur, a path he could never retrace, and he did not know where he went—only that it was deeper into the forest, towards a song that grew louder and louder until it was stars mingled with thunder.

Rory had seen the Stonesong, once, a fire-tainted memory. He had heard the rush of water, the eerie whisper of it brushing along rocks, and despite the situation, it had awed him. The Hollowed Grounds had nothing to rival it, its rivers placid and calm and lifeless compared to it.

But nothing, nothing, had prepared him for seeing the Crimson Cataract.

Mist rose off of the red surface of the pool, but the sanguine water held his attention for about 0.1 second: his eyes were wide as he traced the waterfall's path to its distant origin, masses of water falling and falling and falling before his eyes. It never ended, it never ceased, and the peculiar roaring sound it made would've been more than enough to lure him in, had he only known it existed—had he only known such a thing could exist.

Rory's breath quickened as he watched in awe, unaware of everyone else around him, enthralled by and in love with the waterfall.

as if you were on fire from within,
the moon lives in the lining of your skin.