The trip back to Demacia City was about as uneventful as Quinn expected. It was two full days of the exact same schedule: waking, eating, marching, resting, eating, marching, sleeping. It showcased Demacian military efficiency at it's finest.

And it was slow and boring as hell.

I guess they're used to being in a large army, but they may as well be walking backwards. Valor and I could have arrived at the city a day ago. Gods, what if they put me in a squad like this instead of being, well, a ranger or somebody that works alone? What if they take Valor away? She shook her head. Don't be irrational, we're a package deal. Jarvan should know that.

Another few steps, and Quinn stopped moving. Oh dear god that's right I have to meet Jarvan. Do I have to dress fancy? Probably should at least wash myself and my armour… what if I don't impress him? Wait no, don't panic, you completed your mission with flying colours. No need to worry. Yeah, you completed your mission beautifully… and then trapped and made fools of his elite soldiers.

Holding up her right arm and letting out a quick whistle, Quinn slowed down to create distance. A moment later, Valor sailed down and gripped her right forearm, landing on it and tipping her forward.

"Whoa, easy on the claws there buddy! And the weight, you seem heavier." Valor quickly gave her a look and poked her stomach with his wing. "Oh I'm not fat and if you try that again, I'll beat your feathered ass!"

The soldiers looked back at her, then started to walk a little faster.

Quinn made sure they were out of earshot before speaking again. "So, have you thought of a way out of this princely meeting?" Valor shook his head. "Well that's just great." The eagle nodded his head. "No it's not actually great, you need to learn sarcasm, bird! Whatever, doesn't matter, I don't need the attention, I just want to do my own thing. Plus we trapped his soldiers with your bird brain plan."

Valor puffed out his chest and held his head up high.

A face met palm, then the face was shaken with a sigh. "We're doomed. Probably be charged with something." She pointed a finger in his face. "If we get executed, you're going to be my last meal." Valor gasped at her. "I bet you taste just like chicken. Well, if that's the case, maybe you should put on more weight, make it a good meal. Those giant wings probably don't have a lot of meat on them."

Valor started batting her head back and forth. "No, don't work the muscles, they make the meat less tender!"

"Quinn," Garen said with authority, stopping the duo. "March, soldier. We are only a few hours out."

She shifted her arm up, letting Valor launch himself into the air. "I know we're only a few hours out, I'm a tracker, you idiot," she muttered, rolling her eyes.

Demacia City, one of the most beautiful epicentres of Runeterra, was a bustling city filled with people and shops. Being home to the military headquarters and the royal palace, as well as an immense market and residential area, it was where a vast majority of the Demacian people lived. With a great white marble wall surrounding the city, it was a gleaming place of justice and security.

However, Quinn was still stressing out about the royal debriefing and a possible arrest, so she figuratively missed the forest for the trees. As her head was awash with thoughts of conduct, dress, and excuses not to be executed, she nearly walked into the back of a stationary Garen.

"Get your head together, soldier," he said. "You have a few minutes before Prince Jarvan the Fourth sees us, so do what you need to do."

"Wait, he wants to see us right now?"

"His orders were to meet with us when we returned."

"But… you can't be serious," Quinn said with her mouth agape, "I'm still covered in dirt, and I'm sure I smell like sweat and god knows what else."

"You do smell like sweat and blood, it is not a pleasant fragrance."

She glared at Garen. "Thanks for that."

"You may want to call down your bird. And if you lose the attitude for a moment, I would offer you some advice for meeting with the prince."

Alright, maybe this will help. A whistle filtered through the air. "I would be grateful."

Garen leaned in close to Quinn, who quickly pushed him back to give Valor space to land on her shoulder. "Sorry Garen. Go on."

He leaned back in. "Try to be more respectful to him then you were, and are, to me. Don't speak unless spoken to, and try to think about your words before you say them. Prince Jarvan the Fourth demands such actions. Follow my lead when we first enter, bowing and saluting when I do. You are most unorthodox Quinn, though you are skilled. Watch what I do, and you may find a place in Demacia's army."

Well, I don't have to like the man, but I do respect him. She nodded her head. "Thanks, Garen."

"It is my pleasure to mould you into a great soldier for Demacia."

I regret the two words I just said.

Her eyes taking in the sights, Quinn realized they had walked through a good deal of Demacia City and had arrived at the military headquarters. So focused and stressed about the meeting with the Prince, she hadn't paid attention to her surroundings, which somewhat worried her. That was not par for the course for a scout. It was time to get her head on straight.

They stopped in front of a very wide set of marble stairs that led into the headquarters, an equally large building of similar white marble with four thick columns making up the entrance. It was all grand and extravagant, meant to instill pride and duty into the citizens. She had no doubt it was successful on most people, but she found it more unnecessary than anything.

Quinn walked up the stairs, entering into a foyer lined with red carpet, leading all the way to the other end where a white marble throne was located, flanked by heavily armoured guards with spears. Wonder if they knew they could use other building materials.

"Why isn't he on the throne? Isn't he expecting us?"

Garen sighed. "It's commander, sir. That throne is for the king of Demacia when he is attending military functions. Prince Jarvan the Fourth is not king." He starting walking to the right. "He will be in here," he said as they approached a wooden door, guarded by a soldier.

"Wow, a wooden door. Guess they didn't use marble for everything."

Garen and the guard looked at Quinn.

"I said that out loud, didn't I?" Valor took his wing and patted Quinn on the head. "Please don't patronize me here."

The guard cleared his throat. "Prince Jarvan the Fourth is waiting for you both, commander, sir." He opened the door and held it for them. Garen walked in.

Quinn took a deep breath. "No funny stuff Valor, okay?" He nodded. "Let's make a good impression."

She walked into the room, nearly taken off-guard by how normal it was. If the foyer was fit for a king, then this side-room was fit for the common man. A large wooden table centered the room, surrounded by chairs, with one man sitting with a quill and inkwell nearby. In each corner, a guard was standing at attention, but they did not catch Quinn's eye.

A man in heavy yellow plate armour stood at the table, his chiselled jaw and jet black hair giving away his identity. Horns seemed to adorn the metal at every corner, making him look intimidating, even if he didn't have his famed extendable spear in hand.

Garen saluted. "May I present Prince Jarvan Lightshield the Fourth, Exemplar of Demacia."

Oh god his title is even longer.

Jarvan looked at Quinn, as if expecting something. Realization dawned on her as she shifted her feet together and went to salute with her right hand, only to squish Valor against her head. He squawked and jumped to her left shoulder as they both saluted, eliciting a smile from the prince.

"Valor, I presume?"

She shook her head. "It's Quinn, sir."

"That I know. I was referring to the eagle."

Somehow, Quinn kept her composure. I'm making a complete ass of myself. "Sorry sir. Yes, this is Valor."

"It's fine, soldier. I am sure this is your first time being close to royalty."

"Actually, it's not, sir. I met King Jarvan the Third when I was young."

Jarvan raised his eyebrows in surprise. "You met my father? That is unexpected. What did he say to you?"

Quinn blushed slightly. "Well, we didn't talk, he was just marching through at the time… like, marching through with some troops back in Uwendale. I just saw him, didn't meet him really-"

Jarvan held up a hand, interrupting her. "Relax soldier. It's okay." He motioned to the seat opposite of him. "Let's get this debriefing under way. Take a seat."

Garen took a bow, which Quinn and Valor copied, before they both sat down. Valor left her shoulder to perch on top of the chair next to her, which promptly tipped over. He landed on the floor and looked around before jumping to the edge of the table.

Jarvan sat down and opened a file in front of him, clearing his throat. He looked to the man with the quill. "Make a note that if Quinn is accepted into the military, her companion will need a portable perch of some kind."

"Will do, sir."

"Begin taking minutes."

"Yes sir."

The Prince looked back to the file. "Quinn Venandi, age twenty-three. Born in Uwendale, Demacia. Petitioned to join the Demacian Army in June, Year 566 as part of the Ranger-Generals. Partnered with Valor, an eagle, as a two-man scouting team. Passed training in July, Year 566, with excellent scores in accuracy and tracking, with above average scores in all other aspects. Tracking score was augmented by Valor, therefore individual assessment may not reflect Miss Venandi's actual abilities. Of special note: uses a custom crossbow with magazines, much like a firearm, of five bolts per magazine. The crossbow can fire one bolt at a time, or in volleys of three, which would augment accuracy scores. Due to the crossbow not being standard issue, Miss Venandi will not be fully reimbursed for cost of ammunition." Jarvan looked up. "All of this is accurate, Miss Venandi?"

"Yes sir."

His eyes went back to the file. "Due to the unusual nature of the Quinn and Valor pairing, Demacia Military Command recommended a solo mission with backup to further determine strategic combat and survival capabilities. Quinn Venandi and Valor were given the mission to track a Noxian patrol spotted approximately two to three days from Demacia City, and eliminate them if the opportunity arose. Commander Garen Crownguard and a small portion of the Dauntless Vanguard were to follow as support three hours later. This backup was given without her knowledge so she would act normally and not assume they were there to clean up after any mistakes." Once more, Jarvan looked up from the file at Quinn. "Please present your mission report."

"Yes sir."

Just as before, it took Quinn a few hours to recount her mission with detail. Unlike when she told Garen, however, Jarvan was stoic as he listened. When she finished, Jarvan spent a moment, seemingly collecting his thoughts, before gesturing a guard over and saying something Quinn could not hear.

She looked over at Valor, who meet her gaze. And this is the part where we get arrested.

The guard left the room as Jarvan turned to Quinn. Thinking about possibly being arrested prevented Quinn from meeting his steely gaze.

"First off, congratulations on completing your mission successfully, Miss Venandi."

Not expecting this, it took Quinn a moment before she blurted out, "Thank you, sir."

"Now, with that said, even before the mission was given, Demacia Military Command was very unsure of where to place you within our military structure, should you be accepted." He got up from his seat and started pacing around the room, his arms folded behind his back. "Our entire military is one giant unit. We plan as a team, we fight as a team. We win battles as a team, we win wars as a team. Your skills are exceptional, and with a unique partner in Valor, you have capabilities and assets that are not common in the Demacian Army."

Stopping in front of Garen, Jarvan relaxed slightly. "However, you are clearly not a team player. You do not care for protocol, and either lack the respect, or the discipline, to show it to your superiors and peers. You work better with your partner in Valor, no doubt due to your communication with him that, frankly, I doubt few could learn. Like I said, that can be an asset, but in our military structure, we do not know where you could fit. Even as part of the Ranger-Generals, you would be required to act as part of a team, which are you not capable of doing at this moment."

Quinn could feel her stomach dropping to her ankles inch by inch with every word uttered by Prince Jarvan.

"The Demacia High Command admires your courage to come to Demacia City and enlist, but your petition was initially denied."

She raised an eyebrow at Jarvan. "What do you mean, initiallydenied?"

"She should be here soon to help explain that."

The door opened as the guard re-entered, a woman with short black hair following behind him. Covered in segmented leather armour with some metal plates on her arms and legs, she looked the part of a ranger. But that wasn't what caught Quinn's attention; as soon as she saw the woman's red eyes, her mind started reeling.

I know her. Quinn stood up. I've met her before. Realization made her eyes go wide. Lestara.

"Thank you for joining us," Prince Jarvan said. "This is Lady Lestara Buvelle, captain of the Ranger-Generals."

Lestara smiled and walked up to Quinn, embracing the shocked girl. Quinn stood there, arms at her side, as Lestara whispered, "He knows about your brother's sacrifice," before releasing her. "Quinn Venandi, it is good to see you again."

"If I may?" Garen interjected.

Jarvan nodded.

"What business does she have in this? Miss Venandi isn't part of her troops yet. And how does Captain Buvelle know her?"

"I am here on request from Prince Jarvan," Lestara said, looking Garen square in the eye. "I met Quinn a few years ago while on a hunt around Uwendale. I can personally vouch for her skills, and petition for her assignment into the Ranger-Generals under my supervision."

"That is why she is here." A chair slid on the floor as Jarvan took his seat again. "As I said, Demacia Military Command denied your assignment to the army. Lady Lestara received the report about a new recruit applying for the Ranger-Generals, and talked to me personally about it. She has first-hand experience with Miss Venandi's skills and, as she said, vouches for her appointment into the army."

Garen jumped to his feet. "With all due respect, sir, I also have first-hand experience of Miss Venandi's skills, and they are much more recent than Lady Lestara's. She is skilled, that I cannot argue. But I also have first-hand experience in her lack of discipline and lack of respect. Sir, she trapped her own allies because she thought it would be fun, even though she could have seriously hurt or even killed a fellow soldier!"

A glare from Jarvan silenced Garen from any more. "Calm down, commander. We do not deal with 'what ifs' here. I heard the same report that you did. She has skills that will benefit Demacia. Yes, she is undisciplined and may show a lack of respect, but I feel that is more a side effect of her upbringing in rural Demacia than a conscious decision of rebellion. Her skills also speak more loudly in her favour. After all, she unknowingly took a three hour head-start and turned it into more than a day lead ahead of your soldiers, while also detecting you."

"The Dauntless Vanguard are not skilled in stealth, nor are we used to be tracked from above by birds, both of which were unfair advantages-"

"Both of which were tools that a soldier used to her advantage. I feel her positives will outweigh any detriments, and that this is a risk worth taking."

Quinn wasn't sure when she had held her breath, or when she had even sat back down, but that didn't matter to her at all. Is he...

"Lady Lestara will take Miss Venandi under her wing, so to speak. She will answer to Demacia Military Command, and Lady Lestara has agreed to take full responsibility for any repercussions, whether that be in military service or in civilian settings."

Lestara smiled when Quinn looked at her. Valor did the same when she looked in his direction. This is really happening.

"Quinn Venandi. Stand please."

Seemingly in a dream state, she found herself on her feet.

"As Prince and Exemplar of Demacia, I appoint you a position as a Ranger-General under Lady Lestara Buvelle. For Demacia."

She just stood there, wide eyes fixed on Jarvan as her mouth refused to operate.

"Bow," Lestara whispered.

Quinn did that, and noticed that Valor did as well. "Thank you. Thank you sir."

"You are most welcome, soldier."

"As part of this agreement, and part of a suggestion I made," Lestara started, "I will take you to live in my estate where I can teach you much more than you will learn here. Your quarters are already prepared. I can escort you there immediately."

"Not immediately, Captain." Jarvan said. "I want a few moments alone with Miss Venandi. You are all dismissed. When we are done, I will have her escorted to your estate."

Lestara and Garen bowed before leaving the room, the four guards that were in the corners following. The door closed as Jarvan sat down. A moment passed before he let out a heavy sigh. "You don't like Garen, do you?"

"I'm sorry?"

"You don't like Garen much, do you?"

Quinn nervously looked at Jarvan. "Well, he seems like a fine commander-"

"Quinn, relax. Sit down." He motioned to the chair, which Quinn sat on. "I want to talk to you for a moment not as the prince, but as a fellow soldier and Demacian. I would much appreciate it if you could just talk with me openly and honestly."

Looking at Valor, then back at Jarvan, she wasn't sure what to do. "I'm not sure that is the best idea for a new recruit to do."

"Quinn, I would rather not order you to speak freely and openly, but if I will if I have to. I know the irony of such a statement, so I am asking it."

She swallowed. "Are you sure, sir?"

"Yes."

Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, Quinn took a moment. Well, screw it, I was part of the army, let's get kicked out. "If I knew I was never to interact with Garen ever again for as long as I lived, I would sleep better tonight. Sir."

A chuckle soon followed. "I am almost certain that anybody who is new to the army shares that opinion. Garen is single-mindedly devoted to Demacia, and believe me, that is a good thing." Leaning back in his chair, Jarvan put his legs up on the table, relaxing. "That also means he does things by the book, and is quite inflexible. He is Demacia's champion for those reasons, as well as others."

"Do you want me to start acting like that?"

"Not in the slightest. Just because Demacia Military Command views him as the shining example of how a soldier should act, does not mean that I want every soldier like that."

Quinn gaze him puzzled look. "Sir?"

"Could you also just call me Jarvan for the moment? I am sick of hearing 'sir' at the end of every sentence."

Valor started walking on the table towards Quinn as she processed his words. "Alright. Jarvan."

A smile greeted her. "Thanks. I don't get an opportunity to do this often. Now, Lady Lestara did tell me about Uwendale. Out of respect, I won't ask about your brother."

Quinn took a hard swallow. "Thank you."

"But Lestara did not know about Valor at all. How did you meet this Demacian eagle?"

"Azurite eagle, actually," she corrected him. "A year after my brother, I met him. He saved me from a tuskvore that was going to kill me. He swooped in and saved my life." She smiled at the bird, who spread his wings and squawked. "Damn idiot nearly killed himself fighting that boar. I nursed him back to health, gave him the name Valor, and we've been arguing ever since."

"You seem to understand each other pretty well, considering he doesn't speak." Jarvan rubbed his chin. "Well, I am assuming he doesn't speak."

"Oh, bird brain here isn't smart enough to speak." Valor swung his wing as Quinn, just missing her. "Pretty sure birds can't talk."

"Don't be too certain on that," Prince Jarvan said.

Quinn raised an eyebrow.

"I've had conversations with dragons. I wouldn't be shocked if there is a talking bird out there."

"Really? A dragon?"

His feet went back to the floor with a thud. "Haven't you heard the rumours? She's in the army, and she has me ensnared in some kind of spell. Oh, and she secretly rules Demacia and eats anybody who stands in her way."

Quinn just stared at Jarvan. Was there actually a dragon in the Demacian army?

Another chuckle escaped his mouth. "That's the rumours anyways. But before I forget, I am curious: what does your last name mean?"

"I'm sorry?"

"It has to mean something. Some of us are a bit more literal, like Lightshield, or Crownguard. What does Venandi mean?"

"It means hunter. That's what Uwendale is, a village of hunters."

Jarvan nodded. "Quite an apt name. By Garen's and Lestara's accounts, it suits you perfectly." He leaned forward. "Unfortunately, our time grows short, and I need to end this soon. However, I want to ask something, and I want you to listen carefully to this request."

Quinn was taken aback by the sudden seriousness of the Prince's words. "I am listening."

"Demacia has been ruled and has been served by the same families for hundreds of years. The Lightshields have ruled, the Crownguards have protected, and the Laurent's and the Vayne's have served, as well as countless others. But there have always been traitors. And the longer they are in the ranks, the easier it is for them to go undetected."

Being unsure of what to say, Quinn nodded.

"You aren't accustomed to military life. You are from rural Demacia, and in my experience, those are some of the most trustworthy people. You, and Valor, only want to help Demacia."

"That's the plan."

"I love all Demacians." A heavy sigh followed. "But I would be naive to trust them all. Without a doubt, there are people in the military who feed information to other nations. That cannot be avoided; it's a fact of politics. But I believe somebody with more authority is acting to hurt Demacia, and may be in a position to seriously cripple it for either their own ends, or another nation's. I want to ask you to keep your ear to the ground and your eyes open, for me."

Nervousness struck Quinn once more. "But… Jarvan, I'm a hunter, a tracker. I'm no spy. I wouldn't even know what to look for."

"You would notice what our average soldier wouldn't, simply because you aren't from here." Jarvan put his hands up to stop her from speaking. "I'm not asking you to actively find them. I simply want to ask you to keep an eye out. You haven't been around here, so things we may dismiss as ordinary, you may catch." He smiled. "You may find traitors in places I never dreamed of, or you may never find one during your time here. I am simply asking you to keep your eyes open."

"Is this why you put me in the army? To be your eyes?"

"Partially. Don't get me wrong, I believe what I said about you being an asset for our army, outside of Demacia, and within. I want to protect Demacia, even if it's from itself."

"How do you know I'm not a spy?"

"It is entirely possible. But you were born in Uwendale, you met my father in a matter of speaking, and I have Lestara's word that she trusts you. It would take much to disregard her word about a person. She's a pretty good judge of character, I have found. If she believes you can help Demacia, then I believe it. You did come here to protect our nation, did you not?"

It was Quinn's turn to smile. "I did." She looked at Valor. "Well, what do you think? Should we help him?" Valor nodded quickly. "I'll try."

"That's all I ask for." Jarvan stood up and did a quick stretch. "I do not know when I will speak with you again, but best of luck. You are in good hands with Lestara." A hand was extended. "Welcome to the Demacian Army, Ranger-General."

She gripped the hand tightly. "Thank you." When the handshake ended, Valor immediately hopped closer to Jarvan and extended his wing. Jarvan chuckled, and shook it as well. "Take care of each other. Demacia's best strength has been people helping each other."

"When they aren't cheating each other?"

"As with any kingdom."

"This… uh… this seems excessive."

Valor nodded, perched on Quinn's shoulder once more.

When they had left Demacia Military Headquarters, they had been escorted with guards to Lady Lestara's estate. Once again, Quinn's mind was too afield to really register it, just like when they entered Demacia City, but it finally hit her when she entered the estate. She was relatively sure it wasn't as big as the headquarters, but the foyer didn't convince her.

A massive spiralling staircase dominated the entrance, with hallways going to the left and right on both floors. When heavy red drapes weren't adorning the marble walls, pictures of various men and women were.

"Lady Lestara and her daughter use much of the estate, Miss Venandi," a maid said as she approached. "What they do not use, us servants do. There are few unused rooms, and one of them has been prepared for you. Miss Buvelle had to depart the premises for a time, so I will show you to your quarters. Please follow me."

A moment of walking later, the maid opened a door, bowing slightly. "Your room. Make yourself at home."

Quinn took a few steps in as the maid left. "Okay, less excessive." Filled with a four poster bed, a desk with an inkwell, a nightstand, a couch, a table in front of said couch, a large blue rug...

"This room contains more than I've ever owned." She threw her duffle bag filled with all her possessions near the bed, then moved to the desk. A small drawer underneath contained paper and envelopes, which was exactly what Quinn wanted. She sat down, picking up the inkwell and swirling it around, making sure it hadn't solidified.

"Alright Valor. It's time."

Valor jumped onto the edge of the desk, bringing his left wing up to his beak.

"No, right wing. Need the curve on it." Valor slumped his shoulders. "This was your idea, bird." Her voice softened. "It's going to be harder for me."

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, preparing herself mentally. She always planned to write a letter to her brother when she joined the army, assuming it ever happened, and it was Valor's idea to use one of his own feathers for it. It was symbolic, it was sentimental, and it was only making this more difficult.

Quinn forced herself to focus. It's only a letter to my brother. To tell him I made it. To thank him. Simple as that. No need to get emotional. Think of it as a mission report. Her eyes started to water. To your brother… who sacrificed his life.

She looked at Valor, seeing his eyes full of sympathy as a feather was grasped in his beak. Tears started to form in her eyes as she took a couple deep breaths. "I'm okay. I'm okay."

He gave it to Quinn, setting his left wing on her shoulder. Quinn choked up a little. "You're not helping, Valor."

Taking a small knife, Quinn sharpened the quill to a point. She dipped it into the inkwell, then set the end to the paper. And froze.

"I don't know how to start this."

Valor quietly squawked, removing his left wing from her shoulders. He touched the tip of his wing to the paper, making a writing motion.

A tear ran off his feathers into the paper. "It's not that simple." He nudged her head, and wrote with his wing again. She chuckled, scratching his head. "Okay, okay, I'll just start writing." Another tear dropped. "If I can see the paper."

Dear Caleb,

Brother, we did it. We were accepted into Demacia's army. I say we because this was your dream. When you saw King Jarvan the Third, that parade, that absolutely ridiculous parade.

More tears hit the paper.

I remember your smile. It lit up, well, you lit up. I'm sure the king saw it. You even said he looked at you and smiled. I said you were full of it, but I knew you were telling the truth. I was just being the sister I needed to be.

More tears hit, blotting the ink as Quinn smiled.

Somebody had to keep you grounded.

Valor nudged Quinn, doing what he could to console her. She chuckled. "This is going to be the messiest letter ever." She wiped her face, trying to eliminate a few tears. "Good thing he won't see this." She dipped Valor's feather into the inkwell, and set it to paper once more.

I am part of the Demacian Army now, but I don't know if you would like it. A lot of them are jerks, and Commander Garen has a stick so far up his ass I doubt he can bend over. But there are some hidden gems. Jarvan, the king's son, is nice and relaxed when he can be. He is a good reason to fight for Demacia. And Lady Lestara.

More tears fell to the paper. It was getting quite difficult to see what she was writing, and it probably did not reflect her usual great penmanship, but if she stopped now, she doubted she could continue.

You saved Lestara. You dove in when she was to die, even though you probably knew you would instead. Was that what it took to make your dream happen? You had to die for it to be reality? Maybe that was our fate. You dying to save Lestara, so she could live and get me into the army. Maybe that's how it had to be.

As quickly as possible, she dipped the quill into the inkwell to continue.

It was so hard after you left, trying to just live. You probably seen the wreck that I was. Maybe it was you that sent Valor. Did you send him to save me from myself? I guess I'll never know, he never tells me anything.

Valor nudged, followed by a small squawk. Quinn laughed as a couple more tears hit the paper. "If I don't make fun of you, you'd be suspicious." His wing gently landed on her writing hand, bringing forth a smile. "Okay, I'll finish it. I think I'm running out of water anyways."

Thank you brother. Whether you sent Valor or not, I know you watch over me. I love you. Take care of yourself.

Placing the quill down, she quickly rolled the letter up, doing her best not to read it; enough tears had been shed already. She leaned back, pushing the chair away from the desk, letting the tears stream down her face. She was not a fan of this loss of control, but she also knew it was necessary from time to time to get rid of it.

Valor hopped into her lap, snuggling against her chest. He was rather good at reading emotions. Quinn hugged him.

"Thank you Valor. Always know I'll put my life on the line for you, as I know you'll put yours on the line for me." He let out a soft noise, an agreement. "You know I don't say it much, but thank you."

She released him, and he leaned back. She wiped her face again, able to almost see normally once more.

"Let's get some sleep."