The Art of Birth

Although she still felt her skin prickle just a tiny bit every time she left Avalon, Finch knew it was time to branch out. She had turned over every rock and patch of moss, examined every fungi and catalogued each herb that could be found within its territories. She hungered for more. The rest of her siblings were happily taking excursions across Boreas, so why shouldn't she? Why couldn't she? The pale female had spent the morning psyching herself up before cutting north through the plains, skirting the edge of the Battlefield until she made her way to the Armada's famous market. Things were always happening here! At the very least, she could inspect what wares others had on offer. Maybe scope out some exotic plants.

As luck would have it, as soon as she found herself surrounded by the crowds and a little bit lost, an announcement caught her ear: Today I'll be teaching a lesson in the healing arts! Uhh, okay! Hello, fate! Finnie pricked her ears and followed the sound of the voice, pulling up beside a willowy male who seemed around her same age. Finch suddenly found herself tongue-tied and dipped her head in a silent, awkward greeting. She aimed her gaze towards the teacher leading the class, her tail striking a quick tempo that belied her excitement. What luck to visit the market today!