The half-wrecked mariner, his compass lost

Her whimsical musings were broken, scattering like the dust of a moth's wings among the stars' lights as the sound of her cousin's voice rolled through the darkness. "Sie auch sein mögen, Vetter," she returned with quiet tone, though her gaze remained fixed upon the heavenly firmament. Her cousin seemed infected by her introspective calm, his own voice holding so little of the Trickster this evening that the solemnity seemed almost eerie, though it suited her well enough. "Sie weisen mich nördlich obwohl ich weiß nicht warum. Der Stern zieht mich. Erinnerungen an längst vergangene Zeiten verbrauchen meine Gedanken." She turned her gaze at last to him, seeing for the first time the damage done to his face, the injury healed well but the eye a loss. Perhaps that was where his solemnity sprang from, not the wound itself as he had accepted many grievous wounds without complaint in the past, but because he channeled one-eyed Odin, the All-father, who had sacrificed his eye for knowledge. If that were true it would not seem he was destined to leave behind the influence of the Trickster either, the scar pulling one side of his mouth up in a permanent grin. The Trickster and the Wanderer embodied within one form - it seemed particularly fitting for him. Or perhaps it was just the mood of the night touching her with fool notions. "Und du, Vetter? Die Sterne sprechen für Sie?"