the bard's last note

Ignita hummed and leaned gently into his tender kiss. She lived for those small moments with him. She looked up at him as he told the tale, titling her skull curiously. He had her full attention.

She furrowed her brow at the scene he painted for her. A boat dropped this one off in the cove, there surely there places to drop him off that would be easier.

She hummed in thought as Oso stepped in, "If you hadn't seen the boat I'd be more suspicious. I haven't heard of anyone on the continent using boats regularly, so unless you have enemies on the mainland... It might be a coincidence, he couldn't be some spy." She murmured. Her paws crossed daintily as she spoke. She was always willing to give the benefit of the doubt or offer a different perspective.

She shifted her weight to allow Basilisk to give her the satchel for her to investigate and offered him a warm smile at the invitation. Finally, something to do! She nodded as she took the satchel and fished through it. Offering him her own kiss on his cheek as he withdrew to tend to his new songbird.

Hmm... The bag itself was worn, She could tell it had been cared for though, and had a distinct smell to it that was somehow... familiar...? She took in a deep breath and suddenly her vision was filled with golden sand and hot sun, colorful curtains and fabric, draperies, and rich foods. She didn't know what this meant and a twang of fear ran a course through her body. Was this interloper a wolf of her old queens court? Coming to take her back? No, no, that couldn't be. She shook her had and preceded to pull out a lightweight fabric, worn, covered in sweat and dust, a familiar garment for all social ranks to keep with them out in the desert heat. The plain embroidery wasn't anything particularly memory inducing but either he had the funds to purchase it or someone embroidered it for him. A tiny pillow made from scraps, aged, and well loved. This she could decipher the stitching to be young and unskilled. Practice for a highborn lady. Then the soft clink-clink and out spilled a paltry few expensive bottles. Heavy with herbal extracts. She double checked the lining and bottom of the bag for any secret compartments. Nope, the stitching all looked the same.

She stashed each item back in the back and hefted her heavily pregnant body up off the bed to walk with the satchel to the little room. It was at one point the room she had used a few times while she was healing from her accident.

She placed the bag at Basilisk's paw and slowly lowered her hinds with a sigh next to him. The new songbird was a bright golden color, starving, bruised... blinded... She couldn't place him as someone she knew exactly... But something about him was strangely familiar. Did he or his family attend her old queen's many and copious parties? Or was he a servant of one of the houses that had attended? His coloring was fairly common of her homeland... but the purple eyes... eye was rare.

"He's a healer, a young highborn lady loved him at one point... and He's from a desert kingdom." She flashed a wary look with Basilisk, "Nothing else within."

"Who are you?" She asked the skinny male, her tone more command than curious. She needed to know, was he some emissary of her queen-mother sent out to find her and drag her back?

"Speech"