Getting settled into her new home was somehow both difficult and easy at the same time. The castle was such a vastly different living arrangement than she was used to so it was strange to be so inclosed with such even, hard surfaces all the time. To the pack's credit they did a good job of making it warm and inviting. Everywhere she turned there seemed to be fires lit in hearths, fur rugs covering portions of the floors, and various things of comfort put around all over the place. That partnered with the fact that everyone here seemed to be kind and welcoming did help her settle in better than she would have otherwise.

With her leg in its current state she wasn't moving very far so she had settled into a lounge area on one corner of the castle, basically only moving from there to one of the guest bedrooms or to the infirmary for Gwynevere to check on her leg. It did make for a pretty boring day compared to what she was used to, but at least Mercury had kept her company. Today there had been some word of a feast that was going to take place and the request to craft something for the festivities. She would have preferred to go hunting to provide a meal for the occasion, but instead she settled for something that she had made with the pups of her former pack for their special occasions.

She had asked Mercury to bring her a large piece of leather, a knife to cut it with, and whatever feathers, flowers, or other pretty things he could find and of course he had delivered—along with some supplies of his own. As she began to unroll the leather and arrange everything in a way that she could reach all the pieces from where she was laying, she peeked curiously at his own project. "What are you up to over there?" she asked with a little smile, glancing between him at her own work.

"Anthea Dásos"

Lately, Mercury could often be found near Anthea. He understood a little of what she was going through, and was around to offer his support when he could. It was easy to drown out his own sorrows in her company, even if that perhaps wasn’t the healthiest outlook. When she had asked him to bring her some supplies, he had gladly done so. Settling in across from her to start work on something of his own.

He gave her a small smile at the question. “I haven’t crafted many things in my life, but this is something all Ermis learn from a young age. Once it’s complete, it will be a windchime.” he explained. He was still working on the overall shape of it. Weaving strands of rope together. “What about you, what are you working on?” He wondered.


"Speech"

Anthea's brows lifted with curiosity as Mercury told her that he was making a wind chime and stated that it was something everything in his family learned how to make at a young age. For something that was so unique it surprised her and also made total sense that it would be a family tradition. Something like that either felt like a special thing she'd see one artisan making or something that got passed down through generations which is what seemed to be the case with Mercury. She supposed her project wasn't all that different in that regard, but it was a bit less specialized. "I can't wait to hear it when it's done," she said with a smile before she turned her gaze back down to her project, using the knife to carefully cut out strips of the leather that were fairly thin and in even, matching strips, laying the strips out beside each other as she moved on to the next one.

When Mercury asked her what she was working on, she paused and turned her gaze back up to him and giving him another smile. "I'm making a wreath that my pack would make for special occasions. Usually any of the families that had young pups that were coming of age or couples that were celebrating big milestones would end up with a bunch of wreaths hanging on the trees around their dens." She pulled a few of the other supplies closer, picking out a few of the feathers and flowers she wanted to start with as she added, "I've seen some do this as a garland too so they can hang it from branch to branch, but I always liked the wreaths. They were easier to collect and save when the event passed." Her expression grew a bit wistful as she continued her work, starting to match up a few of the pieces of leather and starting to braid it together.

"Does your family live near here?" she asked curiously with a glance toward him. She realized that he had given her his family name and mentioned small things like the wind chimes he was making, but not much else about them.

"Anthea Dásos"

“That’s adorable” Mercury said, a light grin lifting his muzzle as he looked at the strips she was working on. “Are the wreaths usually multicoloured or uniform?” He asked. If Anthea was going to be sticking around, then it would be good to know in which ways he could honour her customs. He watched her work for a moment, admiring the assured motions of her paws as she worked in the feathers and flowers. It would take him more than a few tries to get it right, but he could get an idea of the method by watching her.

“My…” He started to say, distracted enough in the watching that the question had caught him unawares. He cleared his throat, and wondered how to proceed. He had traversed so carefully around the subject anytime someone brought it up. He often found himself warring with the pain, and the desire to keep their memory alive. And perhaps in Anthea, he would have someone who understood without tripping over her regrets in the asking.

“I suppose I have a story to tell that is similar to the one we are unravelling with you.” He said. Turning his attention back to the frame of his wind chime. It was easier to speak if he kept his hands and mind busy. He turned it in his paws a few times, checking the strength of its shape before typing the tassels that would hold the swaying gems. “The youngest of four, I set my sights on other ways to distinguish myself from my siblings.” he began, the images of those siblings flashing through his mind. So often he was at war with them, but all he felt for them now was sorrow and love. “I learned trading and diplomacy, and spent much of my time going from shore to shore. It’s for this reason that I survived when they did not.” another pause, longer this time. “There was an eruption from the volcano seated directly behind my pack. I was at sea, and the ash and molten rock that fell damaged my ship. By the time we found land, I was the last of my crew.” he brushed his forpaws along his hind legs, as if to clear them of dust. “So, all I have left of them are our traditions. I wonder if Artorias will come to regret giving me space to hang so many windchimes?” He gave her a lopsided smile, realising as he did so that his eyes were blurry. He found himself watching her wearily, afraid he had said too much.


"Speech"

Anthea grinned a little with a bashful flick of her ears as Mercury declared the tradition she described to be adorable. "Oh, they can be all kinds of colors or materials. Usually they're themed after things the one they're being made for likes or something that represents them. I've seen them made out of leather like this, branches, vines, sown together furs... Anything you can eventually work into a circle shape," she replied with a little laugh. She made pretty quick work of making a thick, braided rope out of the strips of leather, tucking in flowers, ribbons, and any other colorful decoration she could find between the strands of the braid. Once she was satisfied with the length of it she would bring the two ends together, the leather thick and stiff enough to hold its shape as she tied the ends together to form a circle and complete the wreath with one last piece of leather to use as a point to hang it from.

When she asked about his family she could immediately tell that she had accidentally found a sore point for him as he began to speak and immediately seemed to trail off, unable to finish what he was saying. She paused from her work a bit, glancing up at him with a mix of curiosity and sympathy. Even before he began to describe the events that befell him and his family, Anthea already could sense that there was even more in common with him than she realized. While her story of loss had taken the form of a forest fire, his stemmed from a volcano that wiped them out while he was away at sea. Even though he escaped that fate, the volcano still effected his ship and his crew, landing him here with just his traditions to remember them by. It was heartbreaking and she found herself with her mostly finished project held between her paws, her blended gaze lingering on his face as she listened to his story. She had already felt comfortable with him, but now she understood how tragedy had struck his life as well and that made her feel an even stronger kinship to him.

When his gaze met hers and she saw the shimmering glistening of tears across his pale blue eyes, a soft, gentle smile pulled at her lips and she shifted a bit closer, just close enough to reach over and take his paw with hers to give it a squeeze. "I don't think he'll regret it at all," she said softly, swallowing past the emotion that was welling up in her chest. "I'm sorry that happened to you. I'm sorry any of this happened to either of us," she added, blinking away a sheen of tears from her own eyes as she took her paw away again, looking down a the wreath she had made as she held it between her paws. "But we can get through this together, right? With every wind chime you make and every wreath I made we'll celebrate all of them and they can still be here with us." She squeezed the wreath gently in her paws for a moment before she looked back up to him with a sad smile, a couple of tears escaping her eyes and falling into dark, slate fur. "All we can do is keep going and make them proud, right?"

"Anthea Dásos"

He didn’t expect the grieving Dasos to give him comfort, but she did so easily and without hesitation. An understanding hemming from a similar tragedy. As he made light of the windchimes he was prepared to make, she answered as if his question had been serious. Pointing out that Artorias wouldn’t regret it at all. No, Mercy had a feeling Art would have nothing but understanding for the tradition.

“As am I” Mercury said softly, raising his other paw over his and hers, and giving hers a responding squeeze. “We must.” he said simply as she spoke of getting through it. “If we are all that’s left of them, then we must let something of them live on.” Who else would remember his mischievous sister, or his overly stern eldest brother? He gently pushed the finished windchime to the side as he realised Anthea was crying as well. Her grief was even more raw then his own, and he pulled her gently into a hug. Saying nothing when he knew words wouldn’t be enough.


"Speech"