His goal for the day was to collect yarrow and, if he was lucky, a rarer plant for the band; wintergreen. The second Gavroche was not confident in discovering it… he had never seen the plant before and only knew it by name and description but… perhaps he'd get lucky. The yarrow would definitely be beneficial for the fighters considering they were raiding though.

The winged male was not entirely thrilled at being in the nook though. Memories of the volcano stirred and he was reminded of the cousin and companion he lost. He still had Melanthios' collar… A memento of the red giant who had been more like an older sibling than a cousin. Gav missed them dearly…

He had come into the nook closer to one of the plains, skirting further away from the pack scents he caught on the breeze. Even if he wasn't at their borders the male was cautious. Ears were perked as he sniffed around at some of the plants in the area. Surely he'd find what he was looking for somewhere?

Well it was still close to the Armada, Mortis hadn’t gone this way yet. He always went East of the Plains, instead of crossing the stream and heading towards the big scary volcano. Perhaps it was time to try something new, and he would make efforts to explore a different territory today. This new territory was shockingly colourful, with bright pink trees that scattered their flowers across the earth. He felt like he was stepping on a big pink sunset cloud. He giggled at the imagery, and kept up a careful trott as he made his way further into the colourful area. He almost missed the scent of wolves among the herbs. He paused, catching that scent just faintly, and raising his eyes to find the wolf.. And goodness me, he almost didn’t see them among the flowers. How could a wolf be so tiny? It wasn’t possible. He was less than half the pups height! He was a colourful tiny miniature wolf. He was like some sort of fairy. Mortis rubbed the back of his paw across his eyes, certain he was delusional. He bounded forward to sniff this weird sight, and… goodness, what? “Are you real?” he asked, doubting it could be true. Perhaps there was a toxin in these flowers, making him delusional, because, now ay this pixie had wings too! "Speech"

The young man frowned thoughtfully as he paused among some of the flora. It got tall in places and that made it hard to see where he was heading next but… at least he was able to really get up close with the flowers as he examined the shape of their leaves and such. It was hard to know if you found what you were looking for if you've never seen it before. He was determined though; this trip was not going to be in vain.

His concentration was broken as a stranger came up to sniff at him. At first Gavroche was startled; despite having been a tiny creature his whole life he wasn't used to larger creatures moving towards him so quickly. He realized the stranger was a pup pretty quickly though and let his fur fall flat just in time to notice something quite interesting; the feathered appendages on the kid's back.

Gavroche's eyes went wide.

"Are you?" He countered the question with one of his own as he breathed out with amazement. Gav couldn't hold back the grin that crossed onto his face or the excitement that flooded through him almost immediately.

"Wings… you really have wings…!" He was amazed. "Divinities be praised!" He sounded so happy, much like a child himself in that moment. "Your name? Ah! Right manners first! I'm Gavroche Kedieo! I've never met another winged wolf before… does anyone else in your family have them?"

The little man's little wings were real. Mortis found this out when he shoved his nose into the feathers appendages and took a deep sniff, sneezing when his nose reacted to the tickling. “Huh.” The boy uttered, shaking his head, still struggling to believe it despite the evidence in front of him.

The man was just, so, so, so tiny. He was smaller than Deathbelles babies. Mortis could just about carry him around on his back like a little monkey. He had never seen a wolf so small before in his entire life. Let along a winged one. “What happened to you?” he asked, perhaps a bit rude, but puppy curiosity got the better of him. “Why didn’t you grow?” and to be fair, he answered the questions posed to himself. “I’m Mortis Fatalis from the Ashen Armada. No, no one else in my family has wings. My brother has bear-feet tho”

The pup invaded his personal space, shoving his nose into his wings and even sneezed when the feathers tickled his nose, but for the first time Gavroche didn’t mind the wings being touched. He was excited, his heart pounding in his chest. This was a sign, it had to be! A sign that he wasn’t alone, that things were going to be alright after all. A sign that the Divinities hadn’t cursed him and that his grandmother had been wrong all along.

The question posed to him was odd. Gav blinked with surprise and frowned a little, caught off guard by how blunt it was, and canted his head to the side. “I… Don’t know.” He answered honestly.

“I come from a family where wolves are giant but…” His smile faded. His grandmother’s claim was that he was a runt, cursed by the Divinities and Gods of Foi but… If that was true then why wasn’t this wolf also small?

Hearing the name of his pack caused Gavroche to twitch his ears.

“Bear feet sound neat!” Gav found his smile again. “My sister had antlers. Not sure where she is now though…” He trailed off and then spoke again. “So if you are part of Ashen… you must know Venom, right?” It was clear he didn’t know the difference between the two. “Are you kin to her?”

The small winged wolf was a marvel, and now perhaps Mortis had some inkling of what others felt when seeing him. Bewilderment, surprise. Perhaps not the same connection and excitement that Mortis was feeling now. He didn’t know why he was so small - surely it couldn’t be because of the wings, because Mort was a winged wolf, and on his way to becoming a giant. Perhaps some wolves just turned out small, like Asla. not that she was anywhere near as small as this wolf. “Me, too” he admitted when the man said he came from a family of giants. “My mum has antlers” he said, easy laughter on his lips as they both spoke of the strangeness of their families. It was good to talk about it. When he asked if he was part of Ashen, Mortis shook his head. “No, Ashen Armada, it's a sister pack to Ashen, run by my father, Sirius” he explained. “Dad calls Deathbelle our Auntie, but she’s not blood related, so Venom isn’t my cousin, but she’s like family to us” "Speech"