Rest Easy[]
Spirits are all spun up over something again. I can hear 'em howlin' at the windowpanes, but more than one Harrowing on the Isles and heaps of scars later, they know a sight better than to test me.
It's when they're quiet that there's real trouble. When I hear the stomping hooves or the rattle of chains, even I won't test my luck. I douse the fire and head straight to bed.
I call out for you on the worst nights, when the moans 'n shrieks of those tortured spirits are all I can hear, even though you're dead and buried and, I can only hope, not lost to the Black Mist. I'd hate for it to be your face I'm aiming at someday, even though I know damn well it'd only be a mockery. Feels like most things here are meant to make a fool of me.
I still hope I'll see you again, just not too soon. I know you're out there somewhere waitin' for me.
