Herbalists' Cache we are a hurricane; drop our anchors in a storm

after angrily marking the borders, aditya stalked past them, heading into the verdant thicket that was herbalists' cache. he took a deep, restorative breath of floral-scented air, a small but significant boon to his spirits, and carried on, winding his way through the narrow paths. so narrow, in fact, that he did not see the sanctuary's governor until he was almost upon him, tripping over his paws.

"alarian," he gasped, stumbling backwards in surprise. his heart pounded in his throat as he tried to regain his composure once more, grasping for the wrathful but relatively steady attitude of before. "what are you doing so far south?" he wondered, no malice in the words. normally they'd met somewhere in the middle, but he was so close to morningside. . .

morningside. the name brought everything into focus once more, and his knees wobbled. in his bravado, adi had forgotten the gravity of the situation; now, it tugged firmly at his stomach, reminding him just what he had done. though he felt that it was justified, there was, of course, a sense of regret--what if he had reacted too impulsively?

he had hurt her. he knew by the look on her face. and now, seeing alarian's countenance, he realized that his era of not hurting people was hurtling by him, heading toward a distant past.