Aurelion Vulnrith, lost to his wanderlust was called home by the grim din thrumming through the song, one after another. It would be days more of pressing travel before he came upon the woodlands of Iryalen, before he had crossed paths with the fox. He had knelt to greet the creature. Its anxiety had already told the story.
A feeling of rising heat, a static about his fingertips as they brushed the parchment of the letter. These were all that the Falcon had memory of before he awakened amidst another wooded patch. He had settled on the forest floor as discordant chimes rang out around him. The templar was left in an exhausted haze. In truth he had traveled a day straight after receiving the letter.
In the moments before exertion claimed his wakefulness from him, he spotted something soothing. A spot of russet fur, a glimmering of gold. His fingers roused in a feeble attempt to reach out. Aurelion lost consciousness, his eyes tearful as he faded.