What is it about the Valley that keeps her lovers coming back? She is a wily mistress, cat calling to you from the shadows, beckoning you with her slender fingers- come home, come home. So many others had, Librette, Kindling, Covet. They all came creeping back, from the dust and the dirt, to make love to their mistress once more. And now, you too, Vampyric. 

The stirring in your loins has brought you back once again, to the place you so valiantly ruled and nurtured. Your life was once here, your lovers and your children and your might- why had you left? There was too much loss for you to go on? Too many hardened memories and befallen woes? I suppose we can all understand that – sometimes there is too much to keep going on. 
Eight stirs from an unsteady slumber as your form trickles past the magic he had laid across the land. A small thrum of electricity as you wheedled your way into the womb of the beast again. Lazily, he opens one eye in the waning darkness of dawn. He sees you in his mind, slipping through the shadows with that smirk on your face. Oh, his vampire has returned. 
Your voice echoes in the morning light, lifting on the wind and carrying to the Valley members. Eight hears, and responds. A crow alights in the sky, larger than most normal ones, with wings swirling with the galaxy. It calls out before landing on a branch near eye level, cocking its large head to focus on your gaze, one gold eye with a rotating infinity pupil. He calls out again, the decibels piercing through the quiet morning, before lifting off into the air once more. 
“How could I not miss you,” He appears beside you, stretching his wings to graze upon your side, walking to settle himself parallel to you. “Old friend.” 

∞

and now the storm is coming, the storm is coming in