you don't recover from a night like this; ramiel / any

[Tiphon]

We danced with monsters through the night Any threat to the Dale is something that Tiphon takes to high regard. He has seen it overtaken by darker powers and he always told himself not to ever let it happen again. He is the land's guardian in more ways than a king may be able to provide. The Dale is as much a part of Tiphon as he is of it. Every fiber of his being is engulfed by the babbling brooks and rolling hills. His molten locks are historic tales woven into silky threads. His breath is the gentle wind that kisses their necks. And his ears are at every corner and nook. In a sense, Tiphon has been present during this congregation but only now does he make himself known. With the sunlight baring high overhead the angel's body materializes among the crowd. Their voices thicken and almost distract him, but his eyes are coolly settled on the stranger. An eerie sense washes across across him but one would never guess by the stoic expression that flattens his porcelain face. "The Dale will do as it sees fit," his voice is dry and lacking in much emotion. Ramiel has said most of what is necessary and so there is no need for Tiphon to elaborate or repeat. Instead, he murmurs under his breath toward his son and neighboring comrades. "Believe nothing of what you hear and half of what you see," a brow lifts curiously before funneling his attention on the stranger once more. "Thank you for your--" threat? The word doesn't slip past Tiphon's mouth. There is a pause. "Warning." A strange and skeptical one at that. Tiphon infection and starlace

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