Aurielle Adravendi

It was so strange not to smell the borders of Lirim here anymore. She’d been somewhat aware of the scents of Torin and his family – almost all of them, which was a relief – in the Estuary, but he’d yet to approach her to share whatever news he carried. So, with the territories abandoned, she made the journey through the Rocks, with Ardyn bouncing beside her like an overgrown fiery shadow, level with her own height and maybe a hair bigger. Her ultimate goal was the Willows, to find where her father was born. Eventually, she wanted to find the tree in the Redwoods where her great grandmother had sheltered with Cairo’s great aunts and uncle after the eruption in the old lands. They crested on the ridge overlooking the valley, and she gazed out over it. She’d never actually been to the valley’s interior, calling her cousin from the edge and not at a great angle to see into the valley, but it certainly was breathtaking. Ardyn skidded to a halt beside her, staring out over the moonlit knolls and the silver thread of river below. "An mbeidh rás againn chun na habhann?" She nudged her son’s shoulder with a teasing chuckle, and the boy bolted forward at the challenge, a black fireball weaving down a deer path, swiftly followed by a glowing white-blue comet on its tail, as Aurielle took after her son and began to gain on him. Probably because the boy was letting her keep up, because with his long legs and youthful energy, there was no way he was that slow. Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Labhair an Sean-Teanga." ---- "Hear" ---- Think

Ardyn Cadeyrn Aodhán Phoenix Adravendi

When his mother had noticed his restless shuffling in the alcove, she’d made a decision to take him on a late-night adventure, though he’d heard her murmur to his father that she and himself were going to see Lirim’s lands. Did that mean he’d meet his cousins? They hadn’t been at the festival, if he remembered right. He’d been thrilled at the thought of a late-night trip to somewhere new, even if they’d passed the area on the way to the festival lands, and he’d been unable to keep from bouncing in the cool autumn night air at her side, tail a bright torch as it whipped side to side, and from time to time smacking into his mother’s gleaming white haunch or flank. When he got a first look at the valley, his bouncing stilled and he stared with wide eyes at the lands. Their cousins owned this? Of course, he knew they didn’t anymore. She’d been voicing her concerns to his father, Cairo, and Justice, and he’d been gnawing on a bone nearby. Some of what had been said had been missed over the chewing crunching of the bone in his teeth, but she’d said Lirim wasn’t there anymore, for sure. His mother nudged him, inviting him to a race, and he bolted forward with a yip. His ink black coat blazed to life under the buffet of his own passage through the air, and behind him he could hear his mother coming after him. He partially watched his footing, lit somewhat by the glow of his coat and the cast light of his mother behind him, but he also hung back, not wanting to win too well. In the end it was a tie, and he and his mother hot the river at just about the same time. His splash was bigger though, and he sought to add another, aimed at her face. He scored and was treated to retaliation. It felt nice to relax with his mother and be able to drop some of the weight of inheritance to the shore. Not that his parents didn’t spend time with him as their son and not just the heir, but tonight was a special adventure, and he embraced it fully. And yet, he couldn’t help but hope she still turned it into a lesson. "Sílim go bhfuil a fhios agam cé atá uaim mar mo mheantóirí breise." He started, then a noise made him pause, turning his head as he saw his mother’s ears flick forward. Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Labhair an Sean-Teanga." ---- "Hear" ---- Think

They'd left the fire to burn down to coals and Sperla assured her that the fire ring would keep the fire in place and if they didn't take too long it would be fine. Dagrún wandered after the kestrel, doing her best to keep track of the small raptor so she didn't get left behind. She really wanted to learn to make fire but the bird said she was too young yet. Which was stupid, but fine! She'd play nice because she really wanted to learn about pine pitch. Sperla said it could be used to stick stuff together and that sounded terribly fun. All they needed to do now was find a pine tree. The duo wandered around the range until Sperla let out a cry to alert her furry companion that she'd found a pine tree suitable for their purposes. The bird landed on one of the lower branches and Gossamer bounded through the grass as fast as her little legs could carry her until at last she arrived at the bottom of the tree. "Is this it, Sperla?" She reached out and sniffed at the tree. Welp, it smelt like a good pine tree.

She paused in her examination of the tree as she heard splashing.

Gossamer moved cautiously. For once the pup wasn't running amok like her tail was on fire. She had dried chamomile held between her teeth and Ásta warned her it was very fragile and might fall apart if she wasn't careful. If it fell apart then they couldn't make tea so she moved slowly, very slowly. So slowly that Ásta had a fire going by the time the little pup finally arrived. She set the dried chamomile down on an piece of rawhide then grabbed two ceramic bowls out of Ásta's bag. She'd need to get water for the tea so she carefully grabbed the fox's waterskin, formerly a bison bladder, and wandered to the stream to fill it. As she did she noticed an adult lady siting in the water as well as a pup. They were kind of weird looking, like they were glowing or something. She wandered up to the edge of the stream and set he waterskin down. "Hi! How come you're sitting in the water? Isn't it cold? I'm making tea if you want some!" She was also going to make a poultice but that was for owies, not for drinking.