It was going to be getting cold soon, and it struck Meadow that she wouldn't be able to enjoy the gardens for much longer. Even though it was still early in the fall, there was a distinct chill in the air. Strange, and very specific, though she couldn't quite describe how. Did it happen every year, the same way? Around the edges of the castle property, she could see the leaves starting to turn from green to yellow, or even green to orange in some places. How interesting... how fascinating. But she couldn't reach out to the tops of the trees to look at the leaves, she couldn't lean in to get a closer look. Heading down into the garden would be the next best thing in her eyes. It was mid-morning, the sun still brilliant and warm where it hung in the sky. With her gaze careful and observant, she set about studying the leaves of the plants in the castle gardens. Some of them seemed to look less healthy than they had just a week ago. Were they dying? Is that what the yellow and orange tree leaves meant too? Were they dying too? Sadness colored her gaze as she looked upon the plants. They were so small and relied on the wolves who tended them to keep them well. Was the cold making them sick? Were they going to die? Oh no. "Speech"

The chill in the autumn morning air had not escaped Fern’s notice and she took time to clean and make a large fire in the family’s fireplace. After breakfast, she had retreated back to their room to tidy things up a bit since, having active pups, means there is less time to get rid of the excess fur that piles up in the corners of the room. With a tune on her lips and the balcony doors thrown wide open, the woman bustles about the room, happily cleaning in the warm sunlight. Puff is off making the rounds, keeping her eyes on the children while the gray wolf shakes out furs and makes sure the room cozy.

Suddenly, the small reddish-brown stoat races around the corner of the open door, skidding slightly in her haste to get to Fern. The moment her bright blue eyes catch her companion’s form, the woman’s heart plummets into her toes and concern colors her gaze as the gray woman shoots the question, “Trouble?” Fear paints her words, sharpening the words as she remembers the trouble her little Callie has gotten into within the borders of the Hallows. Puff shakes her head in the negative before saying, “Well, not danger. Little Meadow is in the garden and she looks really worried! I don’t think she understands what the plants are doing.”

For a moment, the gray wolf tilts her head as she tries to puzzle out the words before realization strikes her right between the eyes. Of course! This is the first time her children are experiencing Autumn season and, unless the parents teach them about what to expect, the pups have no idea. Giving a small nod to Puff, Fern warmly says, “Well, let’s go see if we can cheer her up.” The stoat nods, scrambling up her leg to take her perch between the wolf’s shoulder blades. Small paws twine into the fur there and the pair are off, quickly making their way downstairs and out into the castle courtyard.

It does not take long for the gray woman to spy the pale form of her daughter and she slows as she approaches Meadow. Fern knows that Meadow can be easily overwhelmed so she takes her time to approach in a slow, unhurried manner. With a soft, low voice she calls out, “Meadow? How are you doing sweet one? Tell me what you see?” A gentle smile is on her lips as she nears, kind eyes scanning her non-verbal child for signs of distress. Concern is obvious in the way she is inspecting the plants and the gray woman takes a moment to consider the best way to talk about what the approaching cold weather will bring as she pulls to a stop next to her daughter.


"Fern Carpathius" | "Puff"

Meadow's forehead creased deeply as she examined each of the plants in turn. It seemed that they were withering, they were struggling. The ground was still damp... they had all the water they needed, if they wanted it. Why did it seem that they didn't want it? Why weren't they taking it on, and the nutrients along with it? Why were they still sick and dying? Her heart hurt. Her heart hurt, and she wasn't happy to see them struggling like this. More and more closely, she examined each plant as she went. Meadow only found herself getting sadder the more she looked. After spending all summer helping to tend the plants, they were sick. How could she help? It wasn't long before Fern appeared, and Puff as well. Meadow's stricken expression was at the fore as she greeted her mother, beckoning the soft grey woman to where she stands. She's quick to indicate the withering of the plants in the garden. With yellowed leaves and an overall sad look to them, Meadow can't help but let go a soft whimper. Mom would know, and if not mom, then maybe one of the healers. Gwynevere had to know if mom didn't... right? Concern splashed across her face, Meadow looks to Fern for the answers. Mom was the first line of defense against the unknown. Heck, she was the first line of defense against the known too, but that was beside the point for now. Things were changing, and autumn was bringing on differences that Meadow wasn't prepared for. Change was hard, even if the change was something like the seasons. Meadow didn't know so much came along with it. "Speech"

Fern arrives and asks her sad daughter to tell her what she sees. Meadow is nonverbal and, the when her mother asks the pup to tell her what she sees, the woman does not mean with words. While her daughter cannot offer them, she is able to explain everything with her expression and gestures. She quickly moves to where her daughter is, following the gestures at the withering plants. The soft whimper Meadow gives tugs at her heart and Fern opens her arms to embrace her child, if she wishes.

With soft words and a quiet, comforting tone, Fern begins to explain, “It is okay sweet one. You know how, every night, you go to sleep? That is what the plants are doing. As the weather grows cold, they shed their leaves and stems, pulling into themselves so that they can slumber away the winter cold.” A gentle smile is offered as she slowly and carefully, lifts one of daughter’s paws and brings it to rest on the dirt below one of the plants.

Letting her daughter feel the dirt, she keeps her touch light and is ready to pull away if Meadow shows signs of being uncomfortable. Fern continues on, “The dirt is their blanket. While you will not be able to see them, the plants are alive and slumbering deeply in here.” Removing her paw, she says, “When the warmth returns, the plants will awaken with it. You will see them sprout up and out, stretching out and bringing with them, new life.”

A smile, warm and comforting is offered as she, once again, moves to embrace her daughter. If she allows, Fern will also plant a gentle kiss on the girl’s brow. She hopes she has explained it well enough and she looks to her daughter to see if she needs more reassurance.


"Fern Carpathius" | "Puff"