The waxing moon shone down from its arc in the sky, nestled among stars Nolous had slowly grown familiar with. The sounds of wild things and the wind in the trees was another thing that he had become accustomed to, but it still was bizarre how motionless this small village was at night, how tangible the sleep in the air almost was. Cultural differences showed up in the strangest of places. Still, the heaviness of slumber did not find its way to him, a feeling he was deeply aquainted with. The mage's mind did not dwell on this, instead lingering on things he saw while the sun had yet to set- the trudging steps a wyvern his age besides him, dark circles under the eyes in sharp contrast of his white scaled faces, the way he stared into nothing before he refocused himself... these were things Nolous knew too well to overlook. Maybe he didn't know what it was that kept Kamon restless, but he knew many things to lull one into the softness of slumber. His bowl is left in the company of the other-worldly crane perched on the otherside of the window sill for a moment as the dark dragon rummages through his things. Returning, his fingers go to work. Incense is poured into a tiny pouch, and a pen sweeps across a small paper, weaving elegant letters into a simple charm. He hangs the pouch about her neck and secures the paper to her leg before handing her a wire burning spoon. Breathing the aroma of tea he knows will fail to lure him to sleep, he meets her eyes.
"You know where he is. Soft as owl wings, go. Deliver him rest."
Art, Nolous, and Caloi belong to me, and are for my sole use.