@starbvund gets a plotted starter
DAWN RISES over the forest canopy, kissing the world fresh in brilliant shades of orange, pink, and red where the sun meets the blue expanse around it. The birds have begun their morning tune, singing gaily without regard for those who might hear. It's a scene Vhaeraun himself doesn't often see, yet the soft morning light doesn't sting his eyes or take his sight like it does his people; it takes him a few blinks to adjust in the open maw of the Underdark before his senses return to him proper, but they adjust swiftly all the same. It's a gift he gave himself long ago, he realizes now. Were it not for his open arms towards this surface world, his plans may well be far more deadly than they already are.
HIs divine Father is, by no one's count, a weak Tel-Quessir, and he may already be aware of the shadow that's lingered beyond reach for some weeks now. It was no easy decision, after all, trying to swallow his pride; he'd become a patron of arrogance for a reason. But now, watching the slow, purposeful stride of Corellon, he quickly becomes less sure of the idea once again. That which he'd done.... There was nor is proper excuse for it. Were it he and his own son, he'd never forgive -- Hells, he may well be inclined to return the favor given the opportunity. Yet the grace of his sister, and the way one favored soul in particular cling to the idea of family, after all each had been through.... He despises how much of himself he sees in their hearts. Particularly now, when he finds himself slinking forward out of the shadows.
Mouth opens, though his own nerves clamp down before any truly form; calling him by name feels wrong beyond words, and thus, teeth sink into the soft flesh of his lower lip. Taking a heavy breath, hands reflexively remove all-too familiar mask as he forces out, voice more strained than he'd prefer, "Father... A word, please...."
