Witch's Marsh collected fifteen gold-wing'd bees, tremulous buzzing

for @Aria <3

In the end the pull is too great. She returns to Silvertip to tell @Phocion of her plan to travel to the cache (and to check in on her still-voiceless patient), somewhat hurriedly, afraid that if she stays too long she won't be able to leave again, that some new manifestation of the feeling that currently occupies her body will root her in place despite her urge to leave.

From there she crosses the mountains as quickly as she's able. The path is unfamiliar and so she dips more Southward than she intends, having to take some time to orient herself when she finally reaches the other side of the mountains. Nervous of straying too close to Bearclaw Poet finds herself at the Witch's Marsh, skirting the edges of the the wetland. From here the Cache should not be too difficult to find but she hesitates, her gaze pulled towards the Valley, toward the forest where her abandoned altar must surely still stand.

will be personally dating this before aria found constantine... just cause i still don't know if she'll be allowed in the pack hehe

aria was moving slow. something forced her to stop. it was as if some higher power wanted her to be here-- but she didn't know why. constantine was at the ocean, she needed to be at the ocean. but still, something begged her to slow her pace-- so she did.

she wandered quietly through the valley, entered a marshy territory that was rather nice on her feet. her paw pads, from months of traveling, were cracked and worn. every now and then she'd stop to find herbs to make a salve for them, but it did little. she was up and on the move again in an instant, and her feet barely had time to rest. but the soft, mucky earth was nice-- even though it dirtied her white fur. she moved along the edges, not wanting to get stuck in the insides, and as she did so she spotted a wolf-- one that was as nice on the eyes as this mud was on her feet. aria slowed even more, watching, waiting-- silent but curious. her tail waved low at her hocks, but she did not initiate conversation.

Lost in thought she does not note the other's approach for a moment, starting when she does finally notice her. Smoothing ruffled fur back down she tilts her head, curious about her silence, wondering if she is waiting for Poet to initiate conversation or if she is ... merely observing (strange, perhaps, but the ex-priestess has done stranger in truth.) 

"The summer makes me nostalgic," Poet says at last, breaking the comfortable silence resting between them. She looks back towards Bearclaw once more, towards her old abandoned altar's home, and sighs, releasing some pent up emotion she'd been holding on to still. She'd never gotten to place her marigolds. There will be time in the future for marigolds. "Do you live near, or are you a traveler as well?"

the woman motioned that the summer made her nostalgic, leaving aria curious why. she did not know what season made her nostalgic. perhaps the winter, since that was when she left home-- but she'd forgotten everything in-between. and that that she had remember was left of a memory and more of a story that had been told to her. at least. that what those memories felt like. she did not feel nostalgic. 

"would you tell me why?" aria asked softly, her head tilting to one side, "i will share with you my purpose for being here-- if you did." she hoped that this suffice. a small, playful smile quirked on her lips as she awaited for the multicolored woman to answer.

She is the first to question Poet's abstract musings, offering one answer for another. Fair enough. Poet smiles back, contemplating for a moment best how to explain. "It is a season of rebirth, the twin of winter... but I find the heat makes me more restless, more likely to linger on past events. We make our homes in winter and leave them in summer, do we not?" As if she's old enough to truly speak! And yet it feels true (perhaps Phocion's ideas of the sun are not so far from the truth after all). More honestly she adds, "I left an old home behind some months ago, and I have not been so close to it since," gesturing with her foxpoint nose in the direction of Bearclaw. "Yourself?"

her words sounded wise-- like they came from a wolf who had been around far longer than this wolf had. aria watched her silently, thoughtfully, until it was her time to share her own story. "when you have nothing keeping you-- i suppose you would leave," she responded, straining her mind for her own distant memory of donnelaith. we left because it was not for us. she hoped this was true-- she hoped that she did not willingly ruin her own life by leaving her home in pursuit of a new one. 

"i will summarize it for you-- something about soul searching and memory loss and a purpose for being," she began with a gentle cant of her head, "but i'm traveling in search of a friend who i abandoned moons ago-- after he left me long before that." what a mess, aria thought, suddenly a bit sourly.