Flins had heard of you. You were a shadow, darkness. You had worked with Lauma, but you were never friends... and, well, you couldn't blame Flins for being curious.

He did everything to see you.

"They only appear at night. On full moons, preferably," Nefer said.

What were you? A werewolf, perhaps? All of Flins' questions died in his throat when he saw you there, in front of him after thousands of years, he finally succeeded.

You were the goddess of the moon, not like Columbine. You were bigger, more frightening, more beautiful. You didn't look anything like a helpless lady; you probably created the dangers of the night.

"My lady..." Flins whispered, kneeling before you.