If you jump, I’ll follow

She was patrolling, ever restive with the autumn. It had been such a long time since she’d ever considered that she might meet any of her aunts again. She had vague memories of Baine’s pale form, to the point that she sometimes wondered if she’d actually met the woman.

Perhaps it was only her father’s stories that had brought the face to life in her mind—he was, after all, an incredibly good storyteller, and worlds came to life when he told them. If only in her own mind. When the call came, feminine and seeking family, she turned from the wall, the point where the grizzly had broken through, and studied the distance for a moment. Which was it?

Acapella had been banished for sharing far too much to a dubious outsider, the very wolf that had fully blinded her in the raid by Talis. She doubted the woman would have returned, and either way, she would likely have passed on—she’s been at least as old as her father when she’d joined so long ago.

That left the unlikely Faite, who had vanished many years ago after founding Lirim. Zuriel? What had happened to the healer? Was it Rasiel or Kieryn? Or…

As her paws brought her to the call, she set eyes on the figures, one quite large, waiting in the passage in the wall. The smaller figure was moon-pale, but bore a blush that was the mark of her middle-Aunt. For the moment, she disregarded her own otherworldly appearance as she drew near, from the mane and the tail, the long canines, and the new, now fully formed and bright glow that permeated every hair along with the moonstone shimmer.

Her eyes studied the older woman as she drew to a stop in the gentle dusk. For a long moment she gazed at the woman, then finally spoke simply, "Aintín Báine."

The Old Tongue fell easily, fluidly from her tongue, inflected with reserve as she turned her eyes to the large boy by her aunt’s side. A son, perhaps. He was touched with the pale skin, though he was primarily a brownish grey, with accents of white, rather than the rose-tinged purity of her aunt.

Her eyes returned to her kin and finally, she spoke, almost gently.

"Tá áthas orm go bhfuil tú i do chónaí. Inis dom. Cén fáth ar fhill tú anseo tar éis chomh fada? Cad a tharla?."

There was a clear note of authority, a subtle demand for an explanation, though the true explanation she knew her father would want to hear. The reasons why his Little Moon had simply left without a word.

Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Labhair an Sean-Teanga." ---- "Hear" ---- Think