Dún do shúil, a rún mo chroí

Winter’s touches were all around, though subtle. She was glad to see that, so far, the season wasn’t hitting the continent with the force of an angry bison cow or polar bear’s slap, but she wasn’t holding her breath for a perfect weathered season all the way through. Life didn’t go that smoothly. And when it came time for heartache, the world didn’t hold its punches.

She’d gotten so little time with her eldest uncle – or elder uncle, she supposed, having only two – and she wished it were otherwise. He’d gone on his way a little while after he’d healed from the graphic injuries dealt by Volkan’s eruption, and she hadn’t seen him since.

When his howl came, she sucked in a breath, first relief and joy, then a gut feeling that all was not well. She rose and took off at a brisk lope, nodding as Lyr dropped in and led the way before winging off to find Ardyn again. Would she even get time for her uncle to meet her children?

She slowed to a floating trot then to a walk as she spotted him, studied him. Age was apparent on his form, the toll of long years. Not so long as her father’s, but still long. Baine had been in failing health, last she’d seen her, and the pale woman had vanished a time after Nolan’s death. Now, it seemed Tornach’s body was following that trail.

"Uncail..."

So much lost, wasted time. She moved forward, leaning to tuck her muzzle into her uncle’s shoulder if he allowed it before she drew in a breath and stepped back, glancing to the girl at his side with a nod, before looking back to her Uncle. She didn’t want to ask the question, but her eyes asked it anyway. And hoped against hope that this wasn’t going to be the last time she saw him alive. That she’d at least have time to spend before he was gone.

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