Kuutar rarely out of the Silvermoon Hall at all. Typically, when she was, it was when no one was around, like a quiet late-night stroll or to get some fresh air.

But tonight, she ventured a little further, near the Frostmoon Scions but not quite close enough to be spotted. Her closed gaze lingered on the towering statue they built of her birth, her lips curved into a small, content smile.

That smile soon faded.

A sharp, shrill cry pierced through the night's quiet breeze, disrupting her serene moment. The Damselette's head perked up, eyebrows rose in shock and her finger twitching. Her entire being froze up, listening in, looking around for the source of the wailing.

Her veiled eyes landed on a small, fragile figure in a basket, wrapped in nothing but a thin blanket to keep it warm.

Columbina's expression shifted, and for once... she was taken aback, her calm demeanor wavering at the sight of such a frail, abandoned creature in Nod-krai's merciless winter.

Oh, the poor thing...