Though they had only met twice -- and now a third time -- Novel was one of the few wolves she would consider a friend. Perhaps it was simply because their mothers were close, or because it was rare to find someone of similar interests to herself. They were older now, too; hardly more than six months old when they'd last met. They looked very much the same, only older and a bit larger now, and less like children. Though Ara did not feel as much an adult as she had expected upon becoming a year older. There was so much left to learn, and so much life left to live.
Hesitantly she would step forward, her own gaze drawn to the waters. The water seemed to glow, enchanted by the glowing stones beneath. Though she suddenly felt thirsty, she felt as though it would be wrong to drink from the spring, as though it were somehow sacred. "I wanted to find your mother," she answered softly. Her voice was delicate -- always soft, hardly above a whisper unless it was necessary. But the atmosphere here was quiet and still, and she did not need to be the least bit boisterous. Slowly she came to recline on her hind legs, gaze briefly drifting to Novel. "My parents aren't doing too well, and I think they'd like to see Song before the winter comes." It was a long warning, and perhaps a needless one; but she did not want to be sure, and she didn't know what winter might bring for their family.
A moment of silence followed as she reflected on Novel's words. Some wolves hated silence, wanted to banish it from existence whenever possibly. But it did not make Ara feel uncomfortable. "What herb were you looking for?" Her tail twitched gently behind her; she could not help but feel interested in such things. Healing was her passion, and she always wanted to know more. "I've learned some, too, but have never helped with a birth." It was a bit daunting to imagine. She preferred dealing with wounds and aches, she didn't know how well she would do in event of a birth. It was impressive that Novel had helped with not one, but three.
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