Life was unfair, ridiculously so. That fact wasn't something Caelia had been blind to before, but it felt even more painfully obvious now. Life was often short, unpredictable, and cruel - and no matter what she did she couldn't ever stop time from turning. For a wolf so careful and so meticulous with how she presented herself to the world, it was hard to accept that sometimes things simply... happened. Her mother's death had been inevitable, as with the deaths of all wolves, but Nolan's death - though they weren't that close - struck her as unusual cruel. He was young, just beginning to figure out who he was and what kind of life he wanted for himself, and then.. he was just gone.

Could she be next? What was the point of all this, then? Caelia couldn't help these darker thoughts from clouding her mind, despite the rather fair weather that the Oasis was currently experiencing. All things considered, it was a rather pleasant day - the sun was just beginning to near its zenith in the sky, the desert just warm enough that mixed with a slight breeze, hardly anyone could complain. Despite the serenity of this secluded little haven in the midst of the desert, Caelia felt anything calm. No, she felt frustrated - angry, even - and as she walked and searched for a suitable place to lay and rest she found hot, angry tears beginning to prick at the surface of her eyes.

It was too hot to nap! Áskell glanced over at his father who was stretched out spread eagle in the shade under the nearby palm trees. He'd begged to go on a trip and so his father had taken him here. The area was significant as this was where Harbringr had reconnected with Deathbelle, the first member of his family he'd been able to find in Boreas. It was pretty neat, Áskell could agree with that much but he just didn't want to nap. Sneaking off towards his fathers travois he set about on his usual nap time routine, playing and getting into trouble while the adult in charge snoozed.

His favorite thing to play was clay. He just liked making stuff with it. He also had a turkey feather his magpie, Kári had brought him. The magpie promised to show him how to make a quill. He didn't know what a quill was for but maybe it would be fun to make. Grabbing the feather and the clay he trotted over toward the edge of the oasis where the ground was more rocky and he set his treasures down, pinning the feather underneath the clay lump.

Movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention and he instinctively ducked down as he saw a woman walk into view. He didn't move at first but then he noticed the tears in her eyes. His head popped up. "Psst! Hey, are you ok? Did someone pick on you? I can have my magpie poop on them if you want."

Caelia was too wrapped up in her thoughts to really notice anyone nearby. Not only that, but truthfully she just didn't care right now. For so long she'd tried to convince herself she knew precisely what the future had in store for her, even if the exact path to get there wasn't so clear... but now? It was hard to be certain about anything when her life could be uprooted, or ended, so quickly. Not just her lives, but the lives of everyone close to her. Her siblings. Her brother's children. Aurielle. Anyone. The unpredictability seemed more threatening now than promising, and she felt like her entire mindset had been completely uprooted and flipped upside down.

The sudden presence of someone, even a pup, visibly startled her. Well, it was her that had walked this way, but for all she knew he could've appeared out of thin air. She was pretty sure he hadn't been there just a second ago. Ah well. "Oh, no, I'm fine," she quickly straightened her back and tried to find her voice. The tears, despite all attempts to keep them in, spilled down her cheeks and she cursed them for not holding out a moment longer. She could lie, sure, but kids could see right through the polite bullshit that adults tried. What did it matter if some strange kid saw her crying, anyway? "I'm just a little sad, is all. One of my friends..." Maybe a white lie wouldn't hurt. He was far too young to begin to grasp death and its consequences. "Well, he left, I guess. And I miss him." she explained weakly. That was about as descriptive as she'd get with this random pup for the sake of traumatizing him, without completely lying to him.

Áskell watched the woman as she stated that she was fine then elaborated that a friend of hers was gone. He nodded somberly. That made sense. He didn't really have any friends but he would be sad if his brother suddenly disappeared, even if his brother could be annoying at times.

"Well, maybe you'll see them again some time. Do you want to play with some clay and feathers? Well, not play. I'm making stuff!" He looked to the magpie. "What am I making again, a quill?" The bird shook its head. "No, no, a clay spearhead and we will make fletching for a dart out of the feathers. I'll get a stick!"

The bird flew off and Áskell got back to work on the clay. Well, if he only needed enough for a spearhead there'd be plenty enough for the woman. He patted the clay flay with his paw so he could cut out a shape when Kári returned. "So, what's your friend like? What's their name?"

Áskell picked up one of the feathers and started trying to chew down the middle of the quill so there'd be some fletching for the dart.

'Maybe you'll see them again some time,' the pup said, and Caelia felt a painful jolt of sadness echoing through her chest. No, she would never see him again. Of course, she couldn't tell this kid that, though. It was likely that he didn't even fully understand death, given his age.. maybe he vaguely knew what it was, but there was no way he could really understand, right? She doubted it. She didn't really want to dwell on it long though, so she was happy to move on to other topics, like whatever he was making. "Sure," she said after a moment of thought, as the child started asking his companion what they were making. A spearhead? Interesting.

She didn't know all that much about crafting, though she'd managed to make some rudimentary leather bracers for herself. She watched Askell working the clay, at the very least glad to get her mind off Nolan. Well, for a second. His question stung but she tried not to let it show. "I.. didn't really know him very well. His name was - is - Nolan though." She corrected herself quickly. His death stung in an odd way, reminding her of the impermanence of life and how quickly things could be cut short. In a strange way, it reminded her of just how little she'd accomplished so far, and how she'd be seen by others if she had her own life cut short. How she was viewed by others meant a lot to her - at least when it came to her family and her peers. "It doesn't really matter. Do you live around here?" His scent wasn't familiar, but she wasn't quite close enough to tell, either. Already she felt her eyes drying a bit, despite the sting of pain still lingering in her chest, no doubt to remain for quite some time no matter how hard she tried to fight it.

Áskell patted his clay flatter until it was the thickness he wanted. He picked up a little stick in his teeth and then used it to cut out a wobbly little shape for a spearhead. Áskell scrapped the excess clay away and left the spearhead to begin drying.

He caught the shit from was to is as the woman named her friend but he didn't have quite enough perception yet to know what it really meant. He did gather that this was a painful subject so when she changed it he went along with. "Nope, I'm from the east where the volcano is. My dad's just taking me on a trip. What about you?"

He turned his attention to the feather. Picking up the larger stick he was going to use for the little dart he placed it between his paws. This was fine work he couldn't quite manage so his magpie ran the sides of fletching in a sticky sap from a nearby tree then stuck it to the stick with his beak. When all sides of fletching were attached the pup carefully stuck it in the sand so the sap could dry.

That was one good thing about children: their naivety. Even if Askell caught on to the pain in her voice, or the stray tears that spilled down her cheeks, well.. he didn't linger on it long nor did he press her on the matter. The small distraction was something she was grateful for, though she didn't know if she was capable of expressing that to this young boy. "Maybe I could try some?" She asked, gesturing toward the clay he'd offered just a moment ago, only slightly delayed in her reaction. Caelia wasn't entirely sure what she'd make but something to occupy her paws might be another welcome addition, she figured.

"I'm from just south of here. Not far away at all. I like this place though. It's nice and quiet here," she added with a thoughtful smile. This boy did have a pack scent now that she was closer to him, but it wasn't one she could really place at all. "Are you from a pack?" Her mind was preoccupied with other things, but suddenly she reminded herself that she did have duties - and part of her future plan had entailed learning about the other packs that inhabited this continent. That was all part of politics, even if politics were the farthest thing from her mind lately.

Áskell nodded, eager to share in the clay. He mashed his paws into it and broke off a chunk which he rolled over to Caelia. He liked clay because it felt like mud and there was very little the boy liked as much as getting dirty. Caelia explained that she was from a nearby pack and then asked him about his. Áskell nodded. "Yup! I'm from Habari. What's your pack called? Are you a fighter or something? I'm training to be a warrior." He liked crafting and all but what he really wanted to do was to fight. So far he was training under his father but he looked forward to the day when he could become an official warrior and join Habari's higher ranks.

He rolled a piece over to her, and she accepted it with an appreciative nod. Caelia had no idea what she'd make but she tried to think of something practical. Maybe something she could attach to her bracers? She envisioned a hook of sorts, maybe for carrying something... not that she was much of a collector, but maybe it could come in handy in the future. She marveled slightly at the fact that Askell knew more than she did about crafting things - at least these sorts of things - but she figured some wolves simply had different interests than others. "How do you cure it?" She asked after a moment as she began working the clay beneath her paws. She'd cured leather before but she didn't know if the same principle applied with clay or not.

He explained her was from a pack called Habari. She didn't think she learn about a neighboring pack from a kid, but it didn't hurt to get information where she could. Better than none at all. "I'm part of Valhalla, not far from here. I'm a warrior, yes." Caelia had different interests but fighting was among them. Defending her family and her pack was a cause she could get behind - not to mention protecting herself when she took trips like this on her own, just in case. "It's a good path to follow. Honorable," she mused softly as she worked the clay, trying to get a bend in it that could hook over the top of one side of her bracers once it was finished.

Áskell cocked his head to the side as Caelia asked him how to cure it. Cure it? It wasn't sick that he knew of but as he thought about it he realized what she meant. "Oh, you can just leave it out in the air to dry. However, if you want it stronger and water resistant you have to put it in fire after it dries." He still didn't know all the particulars, but Kari did.

He perked up as she mentioned that she was a warrior. "Cool! Maybe we can fight some time. I better get back to my dad. He doesn't like it when I wander off and talk to wolves I don't know. It was nice to meet you though!" He moved about, collecting the items he'd made so he could get back to his father.