Anduin Lothar dreams. Every night, he dreams.
He dreams of a black bird with blue eyes, and warmth, and comfort, and Khadgar. His friend Khadgar, whom he met just six months ago but honestly, it feels like he's known him forever. Sometimes in his dreams Khadgar has the same blue eyes as the raven, and sometimes the younger man is kissing him. Lothar doesn't know what to make of that, of Khadgar whispering words of affection and praise to him, or why he wants nothing more than to kiss him back.
The dreams feel like more than dreams.
One morning, after another night of dreaming, Lothar finds a small black feather. It is on the bedroom floor, partially hidden under the nightstand, and it is the same as those of the bird in his dreams. He doesn't know what to think. But that night, he purposefully leaves his window open, just a crack…not enough to see it isn't shut completely, but enough so that if he holds his hand there he can feel the air coming through. Surely it will be the same when he wakes, he tells himself, wondering why he's letting his mind run away with him.
The next morning, the window is all the way down, with no air coming through at all. And as he wonders what is really happening here, and what these dreams truly are, he knows that he will eventually find out the truth.
He *is* a detective, after all.