The minute she could edge away from the crowd, she did. Finch retreated to the outer rings of the gathering where wolves gathered in smaller groups of twos and threes, sucking in a deep breath of cool evening air as she did. She was distantly proud of herself for coming all this way on her own - but the feeling had ebbed right out of her when she'd been faced with the crowd. Avalon was quiet. Small. Finnie hadn't realized how accustomed she'd become to its comfortable rhythms until she'd stepped outside of them and now she was far from home. A strangled whine worked its way up her throat but she swallowed it down. Quit embarrassing yourself!

The wolves around her had paired off for a reason. They were involved in deep conversation or... something else. Her young eyes skirted past the few that had retreated to neck in privacy, bodies entwined. Heat rushed to her cheeks. Her fur and skin were pale enough there that the blood did flush her face, a dainty pink peeking through the fine light fur. Finch gulped down another breath of air like she'd forgotten how to breathe normally. Soon her siblings would be here and they could chase each other through the fireflies or make up stories about the wolves lingering out of earshot. Something innocent to pass the time - all games she was familiar with. Whatever else happened in the dark here at the edges of the gathering was not familiar to her at all.

She trained her eyes on the ground, beginning to name the flowers and grasses she could recognize. Boneset, clover... she went on in her head until she was lost in her own game and began to quietly mouth them out loud: "Milkweed... yarrow... phlox..."

Wylan was excited to be back at the Hallows. He hadn’t been here for some time! He trotted through the plains, wondering where the other Armada wolves had gotten to. But perhaps he should actually be looking for someone new! It wasn’t often he got to meet new people, to see strangers. This was his chance!

As he trotted along, he realised there was a little white wolf that looked a little like Ollie on the outskirts of the crowds. His tail wiggling behind him he trotted over to see what they were doing. He caught the quiet whisper of their words and grinned. “Yarrow! We have that back home, too. And look, Dandelions!”


"Wylan Fatalis"

Finch's eyes were almost dreamily half-closed as she found more comfort in reciting the names of these common meadow herbs and flowers. She was so focused on calming her nerves that she didn't notice Wylan until he was almost right next to her, eagerly announcing yet another nearby plant. Finnie couldn't help herself, she jumped straight up like a startled cat. Braced on all four legs like she was about to spring into a dead run, she met his eyes for the first time. "Oh!" she breathed, her gaze softening in wonder. What did they say about curiosity and that cat? "Those are magnificent! What do your muscles feel like when you stretch them? Are they heavy? Were you born with them? Can you fl-" she bit off the last question hurriedly. Can he fly? No, impossible! Not in her wildest dreams. "Can you feel them, like your own skin? If they're touched?" Finnie steered her question in a different direction, hoping he wouldn't connect the dots.

“Oops!” Wylan said, taking a polite step back as the other wolf leaped directly up in fright. The boy gave an embarrassed grin. He hadn’t meant to startle her! But she bounced back fast, her attention turning to his wings with something akin to wonder. “It’s like moving my toes, except I guess I have more flexibility in my toes…” He said, lifting a paw and wiggling his toes, and stretching one wing out and brushing it up and down.

can you fl- He knew where that was going. “Well, not yet. But I’m training with a Raven!” he explained. So, perhaps once he’d learned the right techniques. “Yeah, sort of. Brushing the feathers is like brushing fur. I won’t feel it if it's light enough.” He said, leaning the wing towards her to touch if she wanted to. “I’m Wylan, by the way. I live in the Armada.”


"Wylan Fatalis"

He was surprisingly patient with her questions. Finch found herself warming to him immediately, knowing she'd made quite the spectacle of herself (and his wings) and yet he'd still pleasantly indulged her. She soaked in his answers with rapt attention, her eyes turning into saucers when he moved the wing up and down as he stretched and wiggled his toes. Trying to catch herself before she embarrassed herself further, she flicked her gaze away from his wings and giggled at his outstretched toes instead. "That's seriously incredible! Does that kind of thing run in your family?" Surely one more little question wouldn't hurt!

Finnie almost vibrated with excitement when he extended the wing towards her. "Oh, I'm Finch!" She sputtered before reaching out and running a dexterous healer's paw along the length of his wing. The feathers were thick and glossy. "Wow..." She said, half to herself, before looking back to Wylan: "Ah! I'm from Avalon. We're a bit south from you, but I've heard about the Armada! And the market!" It must be thrilling to live in such a busy place, but she couldn't quite picture herself outside of the quiet splendor of Avalon just yet.

“My dad’s got wings too.” He said, more than happy to answer her questions. He was accustomed to people asking him about his wings, but he was social enough that the shine of answering hadn’t worn off yet. He grinned at the white wolf. “None of my other siblings inherited it, and his parents didn’t have wings.” He said, anticipating those might be her next questions.

She ran a paw through his feathers, tickling them. He giggled at the sensation. ‘If you find a loose one, you can keep it.” Just so long as she didn’t go plucking any! “Yeah? You should come by sometime. I sell honey treats when I have time.”

"Wylan Fatalis"

"Oh, I couldn't!" she said quickly when he offered a feather for her to keep. That would be too much! Even if she wanted desperately to study it and compare it to a bird's feather... maybe run a few harmless tests. She retracted her paw from his wings without feeling any loose feathers, anyway. He most likely took immaculate care of them. How often did she look up to the trees and see birds preening, after all? It must be quite the task to maintain a set of wings this size. Finch tried to imagine another wolf with wings and failed miserably. If someone else had told her they'd met Wylan and she hadn't seen him for herself, she might not have believed them. Sure, wolves of all types roamed Boreas, but these wings were a cut above the rest.

He caught her off guard with the mention of honey treats and her mouth filled with water at the thought of them. She'd been so overwhelmed by the mass of wolves closer to the fire that she'd left the main gathering before grabbing even a morsel of food. And the journey to Auster had been so long... Finch gulped, their silence interrupted by the loud gurgle of her hungry stomach. She turned bright pink up to the tips of her ears. "Oh! Don't mind that, it's nothing!"

”You definitely could.” Wylan said, seeing the way she took her paw back quickly at his offer. He gave her a mischievous grin, and used his nose to poke around his other wing and found a feather due to come free. He pulled it lightly, and it came free with it. He turned, and handed it to the white wolf. “For you.” He said, almost shyly. It wasn’t like he was going to miss it. Glacier might, maybe. The bear liked to collect them to add to his sleeping area.

At her gurgly tummy… “Come on, I’ve already investigated the buffet table, but you know, I think it needs further investigating…” You have to take care of your friends, after all. Finch was clearly hungry.


"Wylan Fatalis"

Finch felt that familiar blush again creep up her cheeks and cursed herself for her pale coloring. It would be rude if she didn't take the outstretched offering, wouldn't it? Ruder than if she accepted it, surely. She gingerly accepted it and placed it within the small leather satchel she'd brought for carrying the mead with her from Avalon. "If you say it's alright," she demurred. It was strangely intimate that he willingly gave her a piece of himself, but Finch had a feeling based on his warm and open expression that he would have offered it to anyone. Did that diminish the sentiment? She couldn't decide.

He was kind enough to offer to accompany her back to the buffet table rather than leave her to her own devices. Finch grinned, relieved that he didn't acknowledge her gurgling stomach. "Oh, yeah? What did you find? Anything to rival those honey treats you make?" she asked, swishing her tail in excitement and turning to cross back through the darkness towards the table so laden with food and treats that she thought the legs holding it up might crack.

“Well now, as a seller of finely crafted treats, I really don’t think I can answer that” He teased lightly as led her towards the food. The warm aroma of the vast selection welcomed them. He grabbed a skewer of meat and a small handful of treats (he had a sweet tooth) and waited for Finch to make her selection as well.

“I’ve always wondered if my feathers could be used in crafting.” he mused thoughtfully. It might seem out of the blue, but he’d been thinking about what people might be able to do with the feathers he gifted them.


"Wylan Fatalis"

The delicious scents rolling off of the buffet table were enough to get her stomach going even louder this time. Finch's eyes widened at the selection. There were so many options she had no idea what to choose! She watched what Wylan took and grabbed some meat from the same platter, and then a small dish of bright berries rolled in something that looked like delicate snow. Trying not to be rude but also ravenous, Finnie ate the meat rather quickly and then tried one of the berries. It exploded with sweetness on her tongue, delicious sugar flooding her mouth. "Oh wow, these are good... I'll have to try your wares, too, sometime," she mused.

When he mentioned his feather, Finch shrugged out of the leather satchel she wore and removed it. The dark feather glinted in the firelight, hints of blue peeping through the black. "Oh, well, I'm sure you could do quite a bit." She turned it over and peered through the hollow center of the base of the feather. "You could use it to deposit color in things, likely... even tattoos, if you started with a sharper blade. Or to pierce ears, maybe? If it was reinforced somehow," she mused. Finch glanced at her satchel. There was a small pot of beeswax inside, downy cotton, and some lengths of leather cording, which she upended for Wylan to examine if he wanted to. "It could also be used as a pendant on a necklace of sorts, but the feather itself might deteriorate over time."

At his question, the white wolf immediately moved her leather satchel and pulled out the feather. He grinned, and looked at the familiar item. When Finch started speaking, he was delighted! She had so many ideas. He sat down across from her, still nibbling on his meat, but with a free paw he rummaged around his wings, looking for another feather he could pull free. When he did, he held it out in front of him, examining it.

“Could I turn it into a drawing utensil? I have a friend that draws and paints, and I bet she’d love that.” He said, his tail brushing behind him.


"Wylan Fatalis"

"Oh, yes," she nodded eagerly. "That wouldn't take took much trouble at all - you might just need to sharpen it a bit, and you could mix some of the beeswax with some charcoal or ashes to dip it in?" she suggested. Finch glanced down the line of the buffet table. There were plenty of kitchen utensils left out for wolves to serve themselves with or slice off a little bit of something. A carving knife teetered near the edge of the table and she looked both ways before grabbing it gently by the handle and offering it to Wylan. "This should work nicely!"

“You don’t mind me borrowing some of your beeswax and stuff?” he clarified as his new friend gave an explanation on how to do it. She reached back to the buffet table and snuck out a knife. He giggled and took it, and put it back in her paw again.

He reached down and pulled his own knife out of the bracer around his forepaw. “This will work, right?” he suggested, going ahead and testing it by pressing it against the edge of the feather in an attempt to sharpen it. “Like this?” he asked, wondering if she would demonstrate on her own feather.


"Wylan Fatalis"

She felt a little silly when he pulled out his own knife. It was a clever trick, having them holstered there. Finch would have never seen it coming... which is probably why she wasn't a fighter. There were plenty of other talented wolves that could take care of that, thank you very much. "I don't mind at all!" she chirped. It was only a small portion of her supplies that she'd brought with her on the trip in case she got any small scrapes or bruises during the journey. Finch watched him carefully as he attempted to sharp the firm but slightly flexible end of the feather. "Hmm... maybe at more of an angle?" She felt bad cutting up the feather he'd given her, but it was for a project! Finch lined up the feather and angled the knife at more of a 45 degree angle. She shaved the end off, leaving a very sharp pointed tip in its wake. "Like that!"