Count our strengths
09-20-2014, 07:40 PM
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She had been chosen, amongst several of the mote elite members of Abaven -- though she wasn't all that useful in what task had been chosen for the crew of wolves. A gentle nod was sent to her chocolate-coated sister, mismatched gems flashing in a faked smile. She wanted to be more than just a healer, like Motif was more than just a warrior... Inside her skull, emotions throbbed, but she wouldn't let that hinder her right now. Just before her leave, she would gently whisper in the russet-masked boy's ear, wishing him a simple "good luck" and kissing his cheek gently. Of anyone, he didn't want Motif or Quintus hurt. Silently, she would saunter off to gather herbs in case anyone would get hurt, and when she would return, hopefully the hunt will have begun without her. She didn't want them to wait up, Abaven needed a decent meal instead of bats and mice since the storm. |
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