Sirius' little project had become a full-blown army at Deathbelle's disposal. Lucretia was proud of the warlord - no one could say that he didn't get what he wanted. It was a trait to be envied and admired. He had come so far from her sister's playmate in their youth; in fact, the titan was barely recognizable. Since the health of the Ashen Empire was her primary concern, she figured it was about time to pay a courtesy call to his new lands.

After all, she'd heard rumors that the lauded fighter had gotten himself a bit banged up. That wouldn't do at all. Lucretia arrived without Bourbon in tow, but they had enough on their plate: spring brought new opportunities for gathering and their stores were fearsomely low. They couldn't both go scurrying around, as much as she might have missed his company (though she'd never admit it). The thin female settled down and called for Sirius, a chummy familiarity in her tone. What had he gotten himself into?

Banshee heard the familiar call and got up in an instant. No matter how sassy she had been to her aunt in the past the babe truly appreciated Luce. They had been through a flood together and the older lady taught her a lot. In the yearling's time feeling lonely she pushed all her attention on healing and she trained under the older lady for some time. Before the world went to shit, that is. It did not take long for the long limbed yearling to make her way to the Plain. She had been spending some time in the Oasis so it was a bit of a walk but she managed. Thankfully a lot of her lacerations had healed and her overall physical health was improving with each passing day. One could see Banshee had been through something but it wasn't so evident now. The biggest change would be her fully grown fangs. Luce had only seen them as nubs that didn't even make it past her lips. But now they were fully formed and rather impressive. As Banshee approached the monochromatic woman she seemed to smirk ever so slightly. Never would the angsty yearling show joy towards her aunt.  "Luce." The babe sat down and awaited the arrival of others. This was an opportunity to learn and to spend time with her aunt. But, she also did not want to get in the way. ""

It had been some time since she'd seen her niece-apprentice. When Banshee approached, Lucretia offered her a warm smile. The typically clinical woman warmed easily to her family and Ban's absence had certainly been felt. So much had seemed to change in the interim. Winter had seen full growth of both of their festival mutations - Luce sported a pair of goat's horns and Banshee's fangs were prominently displayed.

"Just like Sirius, mmm?' She teased. The spunky Klein girl didn't much resemble the black titan in any other way, but he was a faithful and worthy servant to the Empire. Although he had struck out on his own, his loyalty to Deathbelle remained. The evidence of newly healed wounds was obvious in the way Banshee moved. "Are you faring well?" Lucretia asked pointedly, hoping for an honest response. There was no use beating around the bush with her when injury was involved.

Banshee ran her tongue along her upper teeth and flicked it at the side of one of her fangs with the mention of them. A heat rose to her cheeks as her former mentor spoke. 'Now I am to be compared to the Warlord rather then my father.' Ban shook the anxiety with a gentle huff, "It seems that way." The yearling flicked her dappled nose towards her aunt's horns. Previously she had only seen them as nubs. Now they were full fledged Goat horns almost like Zee. Zee's were much more upward and curled though. "We are all mutants now." Banshee smirked slightly as if making light of Ashen's plethora of interesting traits. Claws, fangs, antlers, and even long fur. It was all so odd but interesting at the same time. The yearling stared at her aunt as she pointedly asked how she was doing. Honestly, Banshee hadn't a clue how to respond. The babe had been in pretty horrible situations since birth with the latest being trapped in a thorny cage for weeks. Surviving off sparse rain water, old meat, and berries. Luck was the only reason she made it out alive. But, was that even the worst of it? Banshee had lived to discover her father was gone This time.. it could be for good. No one uttered the word dead but she knew everyone was thinking it. With the looks of it, everyone had moved on pretty quickly. Especially with the death of Archon. Finally Banshee spoke, "I have never been better, Lucretia." The babe's eyes were dull with an agonizing angst. For some reason the thought of the Kleins gave her an ill feeling. Responding to the call she had felt neutral. But, within those moments of conversing with the healer the babe's emotions were flaring and those mental wounds were tearing back open. Looking into the eyes of another being that Banshee felt only superficially cared for her. "Thorns got me." Banshee knew if she didn't give a reason as to why there were tiny cuts all over her body Luce would pry onward. Thus, she gave a simple and very underwhelming answer. ""

The wounded Tyrant was finally beginning to heal, his leg could support him and he had added little bits of activity to his schedule to keep himself moving. He knew it wouldn’t be long now before he was fully operational. In the meantime, he made his way from the Oasis to the Plains to check on his territory. He didn’t tell Io, knowing the healer would likely protest if she caught him.

By the time he reached the Plains, his leg was aching something fierce, and he was breathing heavily. He paused, giving himself a moment to calm and catch his breath, when he heard the sound of Luce. Oh shit he thought of the frying pan, into the fire.

He sighed, gave himself a moment to soothe his features, and forced himself to walk with a minimum a limp as possible, though he could hardly hide his injury well he was wearing a cast. He would see Banshee first, coming at an angle behind his pupil, and then Luce next. “Luce, it’s been a while” he said, they didn’t seem to cross paths often as of late.