An Offering

The familiars. The altar. He had to put something together, it just... it felt right. Though Ivy wasn't sure exactly what he was doing here, exactly what he was doing in Auster, it just... he needed to. That seemed to be good enough. As he made his way towards the altar, he began to pluck sweet-smelling herbs here, a handful (pawful?) of pretty flowers there. Slowly, he'd gather them together, bundling them as he walked. Though not perfect, it would be better than nothing. Can't show up to a feast empty handed. It would be enough.

Would he be enough? A sigh heaved through his chest, his lungs. Would he be enough for his family, what was left of it? Would the be disappointed in him, should they ever come back together? Dishonor on his own name. Ivy did his best to brush those thoughts from his head. Shake them away. There was the acute feeling, too, that he was being watched.

"What the hell?" That was all he could really process, for now, carefully setting his bundle of sweet smelling herbs and flowers. Someone was out there.

"Ivy"