Snow dipped paws moved quietly over the strange, desolate landscape. This place was mighty odd. Strange bits of a forgotten past jutted from the ground. The acrid stench of metal still tinged the air. Iolaire found her nose wrinkling more than once as she combed the old battlefield. How could one tell that it had been a battlefield? From the fragments of bone that still littered the ground. The woman was careful where she stepped, lest she slice open her soft, blue pads. The woman had brought her cart along with her. It was empty and thankfully rolled fairly easily. She had greased the spokes with ox fat so that they might move without friction. It wasn't a large cart which was fine, considering she was far from being a large wolf. She'd constructed the harness with strong, thick vines. They rested comfortably across the small fae's chest. In the center of the field, Iolaire shrugged out of the harness. She would leave it here as she explored the landscape. There was one thing in particular that she was looking for, but was hopeful that she might find other useful items as well. In moments she came across an old metal helm. Rolling it around to give it a thorough look, the dame decided that it would hold water quite well. Taking it between her teeth, she chucked it into the back of the wagon. What else would this treasure trove reveal? Speech

Lucretia was feeling particularly pigheaded lately. She was determined to make friends with the small female who had seemed to capture her sister and the Warlord's attention - or, as good as "making friends" as Lucretia could get. She wasn't well-versed in politeness. Bourbon was her friend by association; he'd lingered so long that she'd grown quite fond of his presence and noted his absence whenever he left her side. Strange, how these feelings had developed. She'd tracked Iolaire this far. Luce walked the plateau with a certain shine to her eyes - it was an interesting place, full of queer items that she couldn't quite make heads or tails of. They all had a use, but as usual, Lucretia's mind was focused on remedies, unctions, and balms. The shimmer of spring sunshine glinting off of metal caught her attention. She watched Io pick up a vessel that looked useful for combining liquids and letting them set - perhaps sturdier than the gourds she'd once used for Deathbelle's pregnancy tonics. Her ears perked and she padded closer to the small, badger-colored woman. As usual, her other constant shadow aside from Bourbon lurked at her side - a sturdy albino raccoon trundled next to Lucretia, picking up items here and there and rotating them in her small hands. "Feverfew and I just wanted to see if you needed any help," Luce said, offering the Armada's ambassador a friendly grin. What had so captured Deathbelle's attention? The Empress wasn't easy to impress. "lucretia mutters..."

Back and forth the small woman went in a sort of grid pattern. Here and there she would dig a bit to unearth this or that. Nothing was interesting enough to take, however. The items that she was looking for in particular seemed to be evading her. Not that she was too surprised. Wheels weren't exactly easy to come by. Nor were they particularly easy to craft. Not ones that would be long lasting, anyway. The sound of approaching paws pulled the woman's attention from her treasure hunt. Iolaire was more than a little surprise to see Lucretia walking towards her, raccoon in tow. The nervous looking dame approached and plastered a smile to her face. Lucretia spoke and, in her mind, Io snorted in amusement. This was entirely unexpected. Hello Lucretia. The tri-colored fae nodded to the little coon. Hello, Feverfew. Since this seemed like another social visit, Iolaire's haunches folded, bringing her to a seated position. Overhead, the sun warmed the minuscule fae's dark pelt. It was welcome as the breeze was still a little chilly. It ruffled her immaculate pelt. She'd have to fix that later. Io was terribly proud of her gleaming coat. Casting her green and gold eyes upon the similarly colored woman, she spoke. You can help if you'd like. What would the woman think of her treasure hunt? I'm looking for wheels. Gears. Anything that could be of use. One silver brow raised and she cut to the chase. Do you often stray so far from home? Of course she was a healer and so she had to replenish her stores, but this seemed a little too convenient. Speech

Iolaire was calculating in a way that Luce found almost comforting. It was a trait common among the Klein siblings. In fact, with Iolaire's coloring, she could almost be mistaken for kin if Lucretia squinted. Interesting. The plot was thickening. Deathbelle was terribly fond of all the Kleins - maybe Iolaire's accidental camouflage had helped endear her to the Empress. Few grunted as Io acknowledged her, turning to Luce as if to ask am I free now? Luce gave her companion a curt nod and the raccoon trundled into the underbrush in search of herbs. With Bourbon and Feverfew at her disposable, springtime gathering was coming along at a clip. As it should. Ashen was in good health overall, but the puppies were all growing like weeds and turning up with aches and scrapes every day. Luce was grateful that their upbringing only brought common ailments that were typical for rough and tumble youths - it wasn't that long ago that the young of the former Klein empire had struggled and starved. By all accounts, Ashen was flourishing under Deathbelle's rule. "Oh, here and there," Luce replied, refusing to rise to Io's bait. These kind of verbal waltzes were familiar to the shrewd Klein sister; she wouldn't be caught out that easily. "Now that Deathbelle and Sirius have expanded, I like to keep an eye on the lands for new growth. You never know when something useful might crop up." Speaking of useful, Luce nodded as Io spoke of what she was looking for. Crafters were a useful breed. One of Hannibal's flirtations had been a crafty sort, but she'd flitted off and had even left a child behind. A dependable crafter would make all the difference to the Ashen Empire. "Truthfully, I'm half running an errand for Deathbelle. She requested a particular concoction that required I wait until spring, considering it had some... unusual components," Lucretia dropped a tasty morsel of information. She'd never air the Empress' private business, but perhaps Iolaire's reaction might let her know just how deep their relationship went. Luce could almost smell more Belle on the other female than Sirius, which seemed odd considering which pack she called home. "lucretia mutters..."

You never knew when something useful might crop up? Indeed. Was the woman's only reply. Already this interaction was becoming tedious. Multi-hued eyes watched as the little raccoon shambled off. Pity. Iolaire rather liked companions. Usually more than their counterparts if she was being honest. Not that she didn't love her brother, but she'd taken a particular shine to his cat, Bast. Marshall, his vulture, wasn't so bad either. Perhaps she'd eventually attain a companion of her own. There was time for that, however. Just as Luce hadn't, Iolaire also wouldn't take the bait. When the woman mentioned being on the lookout for herbs used in a concoction for Deathbelle, Io simply made a 'hmm' of acceptance. Whatever the mixture was, it was none of her business. If Belle wished to inform her of any ailments, then she would. Until then, the reason would remain unknown to the small woman. From personal experience, she knew that Luce's Empress was quite...virile and robust. Rising, Iolaire began walking again, nosing around during her search. Lucretia would either follow, or she wouldn't. The day only lasted so long and it was much easier to navigate the world with a cart when it was light outside. One particular crust of earth caught the tiny dame's eye and she used snow dipped paws to dig it out. Aha. Success. A small one, anyway. The woman had unearthed an old winch gear. This would definitely come in handy. Flipping open one of the smaller front pockets on her bag, she slid the treasure within. Another gust of wind ruffled the fae's pelt as she stood tall, her gaze scanning over the particular quadrant that she was in. She was content to be silent. If the other healer had something to say, she could very well do so. Iolaire was rather suspicious of her. Not to say that she disliked her, she simply disliked the game that was being played. Iolaire preferred blunt honesty. You have a question? Ask it. You don't like me? Say so. This wasn't her game, however. She had to wait until the larger wolf gave the game away. She didn't have to wait in place though and so she continued picking her way down the row of land. She could do this all day. Speech

Well. This was more difficult than she'd thought it would be. Io didn't seem to take the bait about Deathbelle's request at all - what kind of healer was she? Either she was nonplussed about the Empress' health or she was better acquainted with Deathbelle than she thought. If she'd recently examined the queen, she would know that there wasn't necessarily anything wrong at all. In fact, Belle was in perfect health. What she'd sent Lucretia looking for was a particular blend of herbs to stay her natural cycle and prevent conception. Mulling over the possibilities, Luce followed after Iolaire and watched her search. As the smaller female unearthed something she had some great interest in, Lucretia noted the shape of the item and set about looking for similar. Sharp edges poked out from the soil here and there, but most of it was leftover detritus from some time long ago. They worked in quiet tandem. It felt good - clearly Io understood the simple pleasure of honest work. For all of her own prickly edges, Luce was a simple riddle to unravel. It took hard work, honesty, and a certain willingness to endure pain. So why was she beating around the bush with Iolaire? Lucretia had a natural distrust of wolves outside of the family, but if Deathbelle and Sirius deemed her worthy... perhaps it was best to push past her own idiosyncrasies. Oh, it was hard to trust. Luce spotted a glint of metal half-buried in the ground. She set about uncovering it, revealing another dish-like piece of metal that had been entombed. It was shallower and wider than the piece of helmet Io had unearthed; this vessel wouldn't work as a container, but it would make an excellent surface for mashing and mixing poultices. Lucretia set it aside and tried to put her misgivings aside with it. "Truthfully, I'd like to know how things in the Armada are faring... and how you and Deathbelle have grown so close so quickly. I love my sister and this past year has put her through hell; in fact, I believe she's still trapped there. She is my blood and one of the great loves of my life. I wish only for her safety and happiness. To see a stranger enter her orbit so quickly makes me, ah, nervous." There. Now they stood on even ground. Luce rarely spoke so frankly with anyone outside of the family, but if Iolaire had earned Deathbelle and Sirius' trust, she wanted to be included in their merry inner circle. It wasn't so long ago that she had trailed after Belle and Sirius as they played, wanting more than anything to be included in their special bond. Now that she was older and wiser, Lucretia knew that she'd always stand on the outside. None of that mattered, as long as she could protect her sister from further heartache and pain. "lucretia mutters..."

A particular dull glimmer caught Io's eye. Unearthing the item, the fae was quite pleased to have found a small knife. The edge was slightly serrated. There was some rust, but that was easy to get rid of. With a small hum of pleasure, she stuck the knife in her pack. That would definitely come in handy. Especially when she was trimming her briar fence. Best way to keep vermin like rabbits and deer away from her garden. From the corner of her eye, Io watched as Lucretia rummaged through remnants of the past as well. It was almost comforting to be working with another in silence. Each had their own agenda, but they had one another's company. The silence didn't last forever though and the other wolf began speaking. Iolaire gave Lucretia her complete attention, turning to face her as she spoke. As she did so, the story and motive behind this little visit became clear. Ugh, all she had to do from the beginning was say so. She was simply a woman worried about her sister. Iolaire gave a soft grin and motioned with a pull of her skull for Lucretia to follow her. Come on, she said. Turning, Iolaire made her way towards the cart. It would do much better to rest upon it than upon the rocky, metal filled earth. With an easy leap, the small woman deposited herself upon the flat, wooden bed. There was ample room for both of them to rest and be comfortable. As she waited for the other woman to situate herself, Iolaire nosed into her pack, pulling out a few strips of dried oxen. She'd soaked these strips in one of her energy tinctures. Often, she needed a little boost during the day due to her lack of sleep. She slid one piece to lay before Lucretia and took the other for herself. If they were going to talk, they might as well have lunch together. Once she had consumed the piece of meat and cleaned her face and paws of any clinging debris, it was Iolaire's turn to speak. I understand your concern as far as your sister goes. I'm sure it's not easy to see someone you love take to a stranger so quickly. It wasn't easy to take to a stranger so quickly either, yet both women had done so. I found Belle crying. The place where she had taken her vows with her late husband. She didn't look at Lucretia as she spoke. Instead, she directed her attention out over the wind rustled plateau. She was broken. I couldn't leave her like that. So we spent some time together. Healers don't just tend to physical wounds, as you well know. I listened to all that she had to say, let her release and assuaged her fears and doubts. I was a friend that would not and could not judge, based on my lack of knowledge of the whole situation. I was a fresh, unbiased ear. The woman's snow dipped tail curled tightly around her hip as she spoke. Ugh... she missed Belle. I was what she needed at the time. And she was what I needed, though I didn't know it, was what she left unspoken. As far as Deathbelle is concerned, you needn't worry about her when it comes to me. I'm very fond of her and I'm doing everything in my power to raise her confidence and outlook on the future. Hopefully that was explanation enough. If not, Lucretia was more than welcome to ask more questions. Iolaire was an open book, after all. Speech

Iolaire's cozy cart surprised Lucretia, as well as her willingness to share. She was used to Deathbelle's charmingly selfish attitude - her sister and Empress was many things, but offering generosity without expectations was not one of her strong suits. Even Bourbon, arguably Bell's greatest gift, came with his own strings attached, even if those strings were tenuous and invisible to the naked eye. Just another way of securing Luce's fealty. Lucretia settled in awkwardly beside Io, keeping her distance from the smaller female. She was already pushing the extant boundaries of her comfort - to touch would simply be too much. There were few wolves she shared any kind of physicality with outside of the necessary touching of a thorough patient examination. Deathbelle... and Bourbon, although she guessed he wasn't quite a wolf. He had so thoroughly integrated himself into her life that he might as well have been her shadow. She sniffed at the processed food carefully and thanked Iolaire by inclining her head, but she nosed the meat back over to her. Luce rarely ate anything she didn't catch herself. Famine, poison, and scarcity were in her blood. "No offense," she said lightly. Although she'd been managing better lately thanks to Bourbon, there were some idiosyncrasies that went deeper than she could conquer in an afternoon. Lucretia appreciated Iolaire's forthright explanation, even if her feelings were embittered. "Oh..." she murmured, her brows furrowed in frustration. Why didn't Belle feel comfortable confiding in her? Wasn't that what sisters were for? A more emotionally intuitive wolf might have picked up on the way Iolaire couched her story in terms of intimacy - but Luce wasn't very in tune with her emotions at all. The Klein healer was borderline asexual and had trouble understanding the ways in which other wolves were drawn to each other. "Thank... you," Luce said awkwardly. "The happiness and health of the Empress is my primary concern. This past year has been trying, as you might imagine; the change of hormones and metamorphosis from pregnancy to motherhood, the loss of her husband..." Lucretia looked up at the frigid blue sky that stretched above them and sailed on over the horizon. Spring had been preternaturally cold. Would they ever catch a break? "lucretia mutters..."

Lucretia refused the piece of herb infused meat and Iolaire shrugged. Her loss. She didn't know what sort of maladies, mental or physical, the other healer had going for her. She took no offense to the refusal even before the other woman voiced it. She could and would still enjoy her lunch. As she ate, she thought of what a pity it was that Bourbon wasn't here. The dog could have run a bit of interference. Plus Iolaire liked dogs. Lucretia's discomfort was fairly obvious in both stature and expression. The dog may have helped to put her at ease. Where had that raccoon gotten to? As Iolaire ended her explanation, she could see the gears turning in Lucretia's head. The woman's brow furrowed profusely as if she was deep in thought, trying to come to terms with the information provided. Eventually, she spoke. Of course she was worried about her sister. That was what sisters did, she was sure. Not that she'd ever had one. She did have a brother though and she worried about that big lug all the time. Especially because he was so foolhardy and quick to throw himself into dangerous situations. She loved him though and it was obvious that Lucretia loved Deathbelle. It was good to know that her paramour had someone in her corner that cared. A chill wind blew towards them. It was true that the spring had been rather cold. However, there was a tinge of warmth on the wind. A smell that you'd lose unless you knew what to look for. Carrying on the conversation, Iolaire spoke in her soft, accented tones. The supplies that I delivered should help to tide the Ashen over while the land corrects itself. Warmer times are coming. I can smell it on the wind. As a woman with thirsty paws, Iolaire had traveled far and wide. She had worked on tracking the weather and was fairly certain that her prediction was correct. Directing her gaze back to the woman nearby, Iolaire canted her head ever so slightly, onyx ears flicking forward. Tell me about yourself, Lucretia. She left the request vague on purpose. The information provided would tell Iolaire a lot about the woman. She was a little curious. Speech