Aegir dipped his head in return towards Oliver as he began to walk away, clutching the ice in his talons. He wondered when the water intended for them to see each other again. He wondered how much would change between now and then. He wondered a lot as he watched his friend go before he turned back to the water. He stood at the edge and reached carefully into the river, grabbing onto a long weed wedged deep within and pulled it out.

He fashioned a small, crude holder for the stone and wrapped the wet weed around his neck so that the glowing stone pressed against his chest. He looked at it for a moment, fondly, before looking back at the water, gazing into the depths. He would learn, now, speak to the water and listen to what it whispered back.

*exit

My voice is speaking...
My thoughts are swirling...