let's rest those old bones

Theory seemed quite excited to have been invited into The Hallows territory. The tall woman was all smiles, which Resin returned, though in a much less animated sense. That was just how the old warrior was. Her smiles were a mere lifting of the corners of her mouth, but to those that knew her, this was as good as it got. At the spoken gratitude, the maned woman merely dipped her skull in acknowledgment. The woman's singular golden eye scanned those that had accompanied Theory. The company that she kept and the wolves that she chose to bring into unknown territory would say a lot about the woman. Theory had brought an elderly wolf and children. That showed an immense amount of trust in Resin's eyes. (Or eye, whatever.)

Black backed ears swiveled towards the leggy woman as Theory described the land around them, listing its benefits. Resin absorbed it all. When the conversation turned to herbs, the giant fae's brow lifting slightly in surprise. "Aside from basic injury care, I know nothing of herbs or healing." Was it not obvious just what she was? "I am a warrior, a hunter." The woman's golden gaze shifted, looking over the land that she'd claimed. "The Hallows is a dream. The dream of an old warrior tired of fighting. Looking to make a safe place to live out her days and inviting in other that might wish to do the same."

Since Theory had brought up the hardships that Abaven had recently faced, Resin felt obligated to share her thoughts aloud. "I've heard of the cowardly acts of Winterfell and the volcano set everyone back. Should you or yours need anything, simply ask. If we can spare it, we shall." So as not to leave the woman dejected, Resin continued. "If you wish to learn of healing though, you'll find no better teacher than my daughter, Iolaire. I believe Abaven is on friendly terms with the Armada?" Resin had no doubt that Iolaire would share what she could. The girl always seemed eager to teach.


"Speech!"

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