an old saint

Lúta settled about investigating the willow tree. She could see the spring flowers starting to fade as spring bled over into summer. It was just as well. Summer was the best time to gather the bark as it flaked easily from the tree. She set her pack down and rummaged around for her bone knife when she heard a soft chuff. Lúta looked up to see a mountain lion approaching. She grinned. "Ah, Kolfinna. I wondered where you'd gotten to. Care to collect a few twigs for me while Raga helps with the tin." Kolfinna yawned loudly before nodding and going off to look on the other side of the tree to give the others some space.

She took the bone knife in her teeth as Raga trailed after with a metal tin. Lúta took the blade to the willow tree, scraping the bark and peeling off chunks into the tin. She was careful not to go too deep. As it was summer there was less concern for cold to harm the tree but a deep wound could make a pathway for bugs and pests to cause serious damage. She listened as Halo spoke of the pack she was in before asking if Lúta had home.

She sighed wistfully before setting her bone knife down and beckoning Raga to put the items away. "No, I don't. I feel like I maybe did at one point. However, I suppose 'home' is a relative term. I lived in a place before here but the funny thing is I just can't remember too much about it." She shrugged.