Barrow Fields battle torn and holy

Her nose twitches as the scent of another is carried upon the thick, salty wind. Her head lifts and she turns, spying the younger female altering her direction for her. Helix’s gait slows to a stop and she distracts herself from searching for nothing in particular. The trails she follows lead her nowhere, or don’t even begin at all, but she rolls it off her back as best she can.
 
The closer the stranger gets, she sees the youthfulness to her—the same as Lava, perhaps similar in age—but she does not like the sadness of his disappearance to her features.
 
“Hey,” she responds and falling silent. The other approached her and she lets her lead the conversation, but as luck would have it, a young doe crosses the background in the distance. Helix’s attention immediately shifts like a dog spying a squirrel.