(Mor'val, draconic form. This takes place several months in the past, and may or may not have some themes of horror.)
There had been something about the south that had called to Mor'val. She couldn't tell whether it was benign or malevolent, but either way... she could tell it wanted something from her. But was she willing to give it away, whatever it was? As she had traversed from the temple where she'd been staying, towards the shores far south, the paragon decided that her caller would get one of two things:
Either, what they wanted from her, or, a spear through their neck.
Her wings, much larger in her draconic form than they were in her humanoid form, carried her high over the humid lands below. Days passed before she needed a breather down on the ground, but even then she could just about see the outline of Freighlei in the distance as she soared towards land for rest.