[center][img]https://i.postimg.cc/rFqmKNsx/Orion-Nightingale.png[/img][/center][hr][right][sub][b][color=silver]Location: Seluna Temple
Interactions: Eris ([@The Muse]), Nathaniel ([@Echotech71]), Kat (indirectly) ([@SpicyMeatball])
Mentions: Flynn, Nesna, Ivor[/color][/b][/sub][/right][hr]
[indent][indent] [color=#808080]He had not slept, though that fact, in itself, was hardly remarkable. Sleep, since his transformation, had become a skirmish fought in the dark hours between exhaustion and the strange vigilance necessary to deal with what now lived beneath his skin. And more often than not, and surprisingly to most, he found himself losing that battle. 

But last night had been different. 

Last night, he had stationed himself at the edge of camp with his back to the dying embers and his face turned toward the treeline, watching the darkness, that dense blightness, pooling between those ancient pines and thickening in ways wholly unrelated to the hour. And something inside him, some fundamental piece of the man he no longer fully understood, had leaned toward it not with revulsion but with ease. A terrible, unearned familiarity that he knew he should not entirely trust but found himself doing so because he knew that feeling. He had carried a dim version of it inside him for years, buried beneath duty and discipline and, most of all,  restraint. But out here, closer to the source of his transformation than he had been since that agonizing day on Aurelia's border, it was much harder to ignore: it was recognition. 

Still, Orion had managed to turn away from it and gone to check the perimeter anyway.

With the beginning of the next day, the camp was finding its rhythm. Guards rotated through their posts at the clearing's edge, breath misting in the cold. Equipment emerged from oiled canvas and was unpacked, inventoried, and repacked. The horses stood bundled under their blankets in the makeshift corral, steam curling from their nostrils. Snow had begun to fall again, too, though this was not the gentle drift of the hours before. Instead, the flakes were thicker now, their descent more purposeful as they clung to wool and leather and the dark fringe of Orion's hair, melting against his scalp only to be replaced by fresh arrivals.

He moved through it all without hurry, first having a word with the guards on rotation before pausing by the supply crates stacked along the eastern treeline to look over the bindings to ensure they were secure. He also noted who had emerged from their tents and who had not, filing away the state of each person under his watch with the kind of attention that looked, from the outside, like nothing at all. Just a man walking. But Flynn had entrusted him with this, so of course it was anything but. 

It was then that he stopped near the fire and looked toward the ruins on the hill despite himself. Even here, the blight was visible, seemingly clinging to nearby structures like some purple, bruised, diseased ivy. 

[color=#b1e4fc]“Good morning, Lord Nightingale.”[/color]

He’d heard her before she’d even reached him, but Orion turned only as she slowed to a stop beside him, acknowledging her greeting with a courteous nod. [color=#0054a6]"Sage Hightower."[/color] 

[color=#b1e4fc]“Thank you for meeting with me.”[/color] A faint smile touched her lips. [color=#b1e4fc]“I believe Ivor already went ahead to scout the area. Nesna should join us today, too.”[/color]  She paused, scanning the camp, before calling over a nearby guard.  [color=#b1e4fc]“Guard Hale, would you mind finding Nesna for us?”[/color]

Hale looked up, offered a lazy mock salute that bordered on insolent, and disappeared between the tents with a smirk on his lips. Orion watched him go but said nothing. The guard was competent, if irreverent, and he’d tolerated worse over the years. 

Eris folded her gloved hands together in front of her for warmth, Orion wagered, though the gesture also lent her an air of contemplative patience.

[color=#b1e4fc]“The weather appears to be worsening,”[/color] she observed softly, her gaze flicking briefly to the distant ruins before returning to him. [color=#b1e4fc]“Once Ivor returns and Nesna joins us, perhaps we should gather everyone near the fire?”[/color] 

[color=#0054a6]"Agreed,"[/color] Orion replied. [color=#0054a6]"But I want rotations maintained. Two eyes on the treeline at all times, even if they have to stand shoulder to shoulder to keep warm."[/color] His gaze drifted back to the hill. [color=#0054a6]"And when Ivor returns, I want his report before anyone else hears it."[/color] 

After that, Orion's eyes drifted to Nathaniel, who had emerged from the cluster of tents, his breath pluming in the cold. He crossed the clearing with purposeful strides, reached Eris, and handed her one of the satchels slung over his shoulder.

Orion counted three satchels in total. Three. Which meant, if his understanding of their research priorities held, at least one contained samples of Willis's blood. The thought surfaced without judgment. Willis had been a gamble, one that had so far paid uneven dividends, but the research continued regardless. 

[color=#0054a6]"Sage Stormlight."[/color] Another brief nod, this one directed at Nathaniel.  [color=#0054a6]"We're waiting on Ivor and Nesna, and once they arrive, we'll begin."[/color]
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