Poem made her way to the banks of the delta with a mission in mind, the raven Edgar flew above while her caracal Allen attempted to remain free of moisture and mud. The cat carried a large folded pelt on his back. The yearling Destruction was going to gather clay for her grandmother and the two of them would make pots together. Despite Rhythm’s lack of sight she always made perfect bowls. Poem wasn’t near as good, and she could see hers.

The old woman insisted that practice would help her so the young girl was out, seeking to find the perfect bit of clay to harvest and bring home. Already she had enough covering her pale legs to make a dozen pinch pots. It was messy work, but she was sure the effort would prove worth it.

His travels in the east to meet with each of the other alphas had not proven particularly satisfying so far, but it had brought him here at least. The lushness of the east reminded him in many ways of the lands he'd left behind in Auster, far closer to the sort of environment he'd grown up in than the arid west he'd chosen for it's more defensible qualities. He suspected that he'd miss the earthy-wet smell of jungle before too long, though at least the lands he had chosen were outside of the desert proper, closer to the south, and unlike many places in the west featured both wetland and forest within it's boundaries. Still, there was no getting around the fact that it was not nearly what he'd grown used to in his life.

The east on the other hand was very similar to his homeland, though a bit cooler. A temperate rainforest, it might be considered. It made him wonder what his father and grandfather's homeland was like, the homeland of the Abraxas line. How difficult had it been for his father to adjust to living in the Auster lands? Or his grandfather, who had lived more of his life in the Abraxas homeland than Eli had in his own?

He could see why Thalia seemed to enjoy scouting this area so much.

A thicker, heavy-rich wet-earth scent hit him, the scent of clay freshly stirred up, and curiosity drew Eligos that way like iron filings to a magnet. The vegetation parted before him to reveal a young female wolf working busily at some task that had coated her legs in muck. He moved closer along the bank before leaping up onto a low, thick limb overhanging the water in order to observe her doings. Sitting, he tilted his head to consider what she, and the hide-clad wildcat who seemed to be assisting her, could possibly be doing.

Edgar alerted Poem to the presence of another and the yearling grew stiff as she brought her blue and lavender eyes from her work. They landed on the dark pelted young man as he made himself comfortable on the conveniently located log. Since meeting Sirius the Destruction girl wasn’t nearly as trusting in strangers, but she could take care of herself much more efficiently than when the Warlord took her.

He didn’t seem to be offering any threats, and there was obvious curiosity in his gaze. Poem was acting rather strange, it wasn’t everyday she saw someone harvesting clay either. Not many wolves were as willing to get as muddy as she was either. His silence was more than a little off putting, but she was Shaye’s daughter and her inability to be anything other than friendly won out. ”Hi,” Poem offered with a tilt of her own head. ”Just.. gathering clay. Do you need anything?” And always the people pleaser she offered her assistance. ”I’m Poem.” She added politely as her gaze was forced back to Allen as he looked to her for guidance.

He finally succumbed to the much and his own paws were getting dirty but he was much better at finding safe places to stand. Poem looked back up to the stranger as the cat removed the pelt from his back and unfolded it out onto a patch of unusable ground.

A raven alerted the young female to his presence, though Eligos didn't mind since he'd not been trying to hide so much as not interrupt her work. Unfortunately, the raven's alert had the expected effect and she did indeed interrupt her work to speak to him. She seemed wary, but spoke in a friendly enough manner regardless. He could approve of the politeness, even if he regretted having interrupted her. He gave the girl a graceful nod of greeting in return. "My name is Eligos. May I ask why you are gathering clay?" he asked politely from his perch, watching as they spread out the pelt, presumably for loading the clay into. "What do you find it useful for?" He had no doubt that it was useful in some way, else surely the young girl wouldn't be up to her hocks in it.

He returned her greeting with a polite nod and his name, hearing his voice loosened a bit of her tension. Eligos asked her reasoning for gathering the clay, an easy enough answer. ”My grandmother and I make pots, bottles, and bowls out of it.” She told him, but wasn’t sure if he’d even be familiar with any of those terms. Rhythm told the girl she’d learned how to make them and work clay from an enslaved ape. ”She’s a healer, so she keeps a lot of medicines and different concoctions in them. After they’ve dried up or been put to the fire.” Poem continued to explain, but she was also turning her attention back to the gathering.

With Allen’s help finagling the pelt Poem tried to dig up a heavy portion of the rich clay. It was no easy task removing the calf from its mother earth, but after struggling for a moment victory was hers. And she wasn’t sure she was going to go back for more. It was dense and heavy and she’d have enough trouble returning with this chunk. ”If I bring back a big chunk, we won’t have to spend so much time searching for clay, we can spend more working it than finding it.” She wouldn’t have to return for a long while, especially if they could use what she brought back on her body. Poem was even more covered now.

The girl's answer was intriguing. Clay containers for storage, for herbs and such. He could think of many uses for something like that, and while he didn't have any particular interest in playing in the mud himself he could certainly see the usefulness of the end result. "Fascinating," he said with complete sincerity. "Do you often trade the containers you've made to others, or do you only make enough for your own usage? I would be interested in arranging a trade if you do happen to have any available. I'm sure my pack's healers and hunters would find them incredibly useful." Not, unfortunately, that they currently had any healers now that Kasdeya had passed away, and Rain had abandoned them, but he had faith that the Fallen God would lead some of their healers home, or that new healers would find them. Shaken though his faith had been, he had to believe that Aerie would grow as it needed to. "Speak" "Listen" Think

Eligos’s vibrant ruby gaze didn’t hide the sincere interest he showed in what she had to say. He was successful in putting her at ease, as she was passionate about what she told him. He questioned her further as she helped her caracal to wrap the clay appropriately so she could take the heavy pack back to Abaven. Her dark pelted observer mentioned the potential of trades, if she happened to have extra product of course.

”You probably don’t want mine,” she chuckled, not only being humble but she knew her skill level. ”With all this clay I’m sure we will make much more than we need.” Mostly, Poem just loved spending time with her grandmother and hearing the stories about their family and her life. ”What pack are you from, Eligos?” She asked curiously, suddenly she was excited about making a trade. This one not as high stakes as the last she made with another pack. She tried to remember some of her heir lessons from before Motif went missing, how to be diplomatic.

”I’m sure we could both benefit from trading.” Her voice was serious, but the gentle wagging of her mud stained tail revealed her emotions.

He tilted his head to the side when she said that he wouldn't want hers, blood-red eyes seeking to catch and hold hers. "Would I not?" he inquired quietly. "You seem to be a knowledgeable crafter. I would be honored to trade for the produce of a crafter who had been so kind as to introduce me to the very concept of their craft. I would treasure it." She had asked which pack he hailed from, and it was with quiet pride in his voice that he told her. "I am from the pack Aerie, in the southwest of Boreas. We only recently relocated here."

Eligos surprised her again, questioning her self deprecating joke and asking why he wouldn’t want her work. Poem felt herself blush at the assured compliment, she hadn’t meant much by her fleeting words. ”You’re too kind, Eligos.” She managed to reply, unable to keep the grin from her maw. He hadn’t even seen what she’d made before and he was complimenting her with ease. ”I look forward to the day.” Poem followed up, the corners of her slate lips pulled back. ”I’m from Abaven in the East. My family has lived there for a long time.” She told him back, offering similar information to what he provided to her.

At this point Poem had nearly gotten the clay packed up and ready to make the return trip home. ”You’re welcome to come back with me and meet my sister, Theory, our alpha.” She offered him, finding herself wanting to extend the time spent in his presence. He’d shown her only kind words and interest in her work, which meant to much more from a stranger than her own biased family.

"I only speak the truth," he assured her. But it was a good thing that he was not in motion when they were speaking, because her reveal of her pack name would have resulted in a telltale stumble. As it was, he was caught flatfooted by it, and barely kept from reacting to it. It seemed he was destined to stumble into his first encounter with every pack with far less preparation than he preferred - Abaven was the pack that had caused so much trouble for the Abraxas in the past, and Archon abandoning his duty there was what had begun the rift growing between him and the family that ultimately led to his and Malleus' deaths. He obviously didn't say anything to Poem about that. "I would be honored to escort you and your companion back to your family safely," he told her gravely. "And it would please me to meet your sister." He rose with lithe grace to his paws, even slipping carefully down the bank to join her in the water. "Would you permit me to carry your burden for you?" he offered, nodding toward the wrapped bundle of clay. It did occur to him that if Poem knew the history between their two families, she'd likely be more than a little upset once they reached her pack and he introduced himself to her alpha that he'd withheld the knowledge of his surname and rank from her, but he found himself reluctant to end this pleasant interlude. That was a bridge he'd cross - and likely burn, given how the pack undoubtedly felt about Abraxas - when he came to it. "Speak" "Listen" Think

Poem was impressed by her new acquaintance and his manners, he was friendly to talk to and Poem found herself enjoying his company. She tried to ignore the flush in her cheeks or how her eyes wished to linger on his coffee colored form. She couldn’t be naive, he was likely just being friendly because he was a new leader to his pack. He needed to make a good impression, and what better way than to offer his services? Poem tried not to entertain her thoughts as she humbly accepted his help. ”I’d appreciate the help,” she relinquished as the corners of her dark lips pulled back into a grin as she helped to shift the weight of the clay.