She rests, perched atop a mahogany throne, carved with depictions of lupine beasts. The witch's study is dimly lit by candles lining the walls, and towering shelves, stocked with grimoires, tomes, and star-maps. Stacks of half-read books are strewn about the velvet carpets, and stone floors. Ranni gives a knowing glance, cold as night's chill, spoken with a tongue of venom, “Come hither, my consort eternal. Thou hast fought long and hard, but now it is time for rest.”