It felt like a dream- almost like she was back home, just for a moment. The taiga was frosty and cold, besides the flowers she had seen, it seemed unwelcoming to the Déorwine family. The first, thriving, a lush area she had spotted, brought the sylph to nostalgia. Flashbacks of times of running through their home, and to come back to a loving den.

But it was no more- Célnes needed to remember that.

Though with injuries, she imagined her sister and possibly brother would disapprove of the movement. The steeps and ledges, but she was drawn to continue closer within it's center. She moved with grace and ease, learned and grasped the land itself as she watch the elk do the same.

And finally, she found the center.

A beautiful, clear pool of water.

She stepped forward the pond, albiet with a struggle and tiredness. Perhaps she had exhausted her wounded body too much travelling to the inner of the grotto. Célnes slowly drifted her body toward the water, sinking within in the hope her burns would be swallowed by the refreshing water. 

However, "who's there?" she called, a monotone voice to those who stalk.

Broken, but understandable, "Perhaps, but healing." It had been some days since the fire, and her pain was slowly subsiding. Emotionally, and physically. Perhaps she never faced her emotional burns, but nor' didn't she want to face it. Célnes left it with the flames of what had happened.

"But who are you?" The elken woman asked once more.

She remained quiet on his stance of dominance, it was non-aggressive, friendly-like, but a display. Célnes only displayed a smile of neutrality, "I am Célnes, Célnes Déorwine." Her family name was held dear to the wiman, but to these wilds, the name meant nothing. She felt a slight passion within her heart, but for now the flame was left to be dimmed.

"Earp is an interesting name," she commented.

Was her name strange? Suppose to these lands they were, but her homeland was normal. If she remembered what her mother told her, the name Célnes in particular meant 'cool,' or 'a breeze.' All names in Kingslend had an eventual meaning, but none cared too much. The woman, who was like a sylph in the wind, remember because her mother often said she was akin to one, someone who followed the breeze, and wisped through the land in an ease. 

She wondered if that's true, "Is it? I suppose it is for the natives here. Many simply call me Cel." she smiled with a chuckle.

"Thank you, but I must refrain." At the moment the only physician she trusted was her own sister, but knew eventually the Déorwine woman should find a one with more experience. She didn't trust random seeds- even though poppies were quite common, they did have addictive qualities.