The Leifteanant could feel the shift like some polarized sensation deep in her. Things were changing, the rising flux of the Banrion's approaching due date and the upcoming trial of the Náire had her prickling. She made her way through the packlands, brushing against the trees carefully. Every little bit of hair she left behind seemed like a faint beacon. She swallowed thickly, thinking of her plans for spring. They were beyond her home, beyond the place where she and Palisander had settled, beyond the place where they had laid claims to one another, where she'd dreamt of their children growing up along side those of Arturo. Now the Fearghal children would be born in a strange land, unfamiliar to them entirely. 

There was in her so much worry but she could not show it to either Arturo or to Lotte. Hemlock did not consider for a moment that she had oversold her skills, instead, she knew that she could handle whatever was thrown at her. She just needed to support them as best as she could. They had become the only family she had in the lands, and her siblings and mother and family were far away. It was unwise to bank her hopes on Gotham or Azazel or Rayen showing up and she didn't have it in her to babysit Tiva while there was so much to do. 

After making the rounds of the Strath again she set herself to the task of combing it for any herbs she could use for Lotte, a task that had become as repetitive as running the borders. Others could hunt and put their strengths to good use, but she had more important things to do than merely hunting. 

She had been aware of the male but had kept her distance - not out of spite of dislike but rather she had felt herself removed from Teaghlaigh still. Through Arturo had restored her to her former rank it was still not the same as feeling it in body and soul. She had to prove herself to them again and it would start with service to the pack. She was vaguely aware that Pendragon was nearby, less concerned with someone approaching her until he chuffed. 

The woman turned to face him, eyes drifting over him slowly - he had no wounds and seemed to be fit, leaving her more curious over if she was needed. It had been long enough that she had been alone it felt awkward trying to remember who she had been before. Still, he was making the effort so it seemed she should as well. "I am Hemlock." she started off easy, with just a name, and wondered idly to herself how awkward an encounter she'd make it this time. 

 

Pendragon. It's a sort of name she's not familiar with, but then, her own is different and the name she gives freely now is only a homage to the plants she obsessed over. Hemlock offered him a brief flash of a smile, her features softening a bit because whether she would admit it or not Hemlock is exhausted emotionally and physically. Even if their move was a great distance they were slow in shifting there, the pathways they took for the benefit of the young children and gravid Banrion. Before Hemlock could properly offer a response - whatever pleasantry she might have given seems useless and far away in her head - he asked her a question and the small smile became a larger one. "Raspberry leaves. It will help Lotte when it comes time to bring her young earthside." Hemlock explained. Though she knew that there had been a great amount of pain in her Hemlock was truly hoping that things would ease up and the progression of her pregnancy would be smooth until birth.

"We lack the berries, but, for this, we need the leaves so I can steal a few and not ruin the plant." She explained before she stepped aside, allowing him to investigate the plant if he chose to. It wasn't common that others knew what she was talking about and she knew she had the penchant to prattle on and on. "So tell me, Pendragon," She turned her viridian gaze up to Pendragon, "- what is it that interests you?"

Hemlock had never been very good when it came to making short talk. Especially when it came to men, Hemlock had been awkward and uncomfortable. This man seemed to have a quiet disposition, and intensity to him that went far deeper than the common intrigue of the new. Hemlock did not break her gaze from him, refusing to back down in something that had become ingrained in her. Submission was not her style, but when it came to the numerous men who far surpassed her in size she could not show any of her trepidations. They remained deep inside. "I have been," Hemlock admitted. "My family are all master herbalists, from my mother to her grandmother to hers." Botany had become her so much that it had become her name even. 

"What passions do you have?" Of course one would be interested in their new homes, the new people, but what sparked him? "We seem to have gathered a few rogues in my time away, I wonder what it is that drew Arturo to accept you." There was a coy smile on her face, a little pry into what he had shown Aruro to become a part of Teaghlaigh - and at the heart of it, Hemlock was eager to see what this meant he was. After a while there was a call for her and Hemlock drew away, offering him a brief smile before she went to trackdown the source of the call.