Barrow Fields curled inward in the night, a curious thing, love

After departing the Valley Poet beelines for the coast, following the sweet smell of salt over grass and field and mountain. She does not know yet if she intends to return or not, the thought half-formed in her head. Her body thrums as she moves, reminding her of her current purpose: reckon with the beast, reckon with her sins, find Sif and... and that part isn't too clear. She just ... wants to see her. Maybe talk to her one more time. 

She stops for naught until the line of the coast comes into view, still at distance but: present, before her. With a sigh the ex-priestess draws to a stop, feeling fatigue settle in her bones. She will rest here for now. Sif mentioned the sea, but did not say where she would be; it occurs to Poet that finding her will be... more difficult than she originally anticipated.

Ah, well. There's no going back now. Squaring her shoulders Poet steps through the fields, looking for a quick meal and a place for rest.

Ha. No it wouldn't.

Moorhen was looking for the Shadow, who had disappeared from the Island without a trace, leaving only the scent of impending fertility behind. And Moorhen knew that smell - knew what it meant. She thought of Venninne and of Laurel and wondered if they had yet borne their young unto the world. She thought of Wardrunna and Poet, and wondered how they were getting along without her. Did they miss her? Did they still think of her at all?

Moorhen thought of them all as she paced through the field, intent on finding the Shadow and bringing her back home. And they would be having words. Not many of them, but enough for the Shadow to know of Moorhen's displeasure, and hopefully enough from the Shadow to assure her lamb that she would never disappear like this again.

But all that fled her mind at the familiar sight before her. "Poet?" the dardark girl whispered to herself, peering at the dark shape in the distance.

my girl!!

The coast is ... longer than she'd thought it'd be, for some reason. How does she start? Just.. pick a direction and go? The .. big-ness of it overwhelms her momentarily, and she pauses to collect herself, even as she looks for a place to sleep. Right in time for a familiar scent to reach her nose.

Surprised, Poet turns, her expression opening as her initial shock fades into joy. "Sif!" she calls, moving towards her quickly, foot-falls kept light. As she reaches her she extends her neck, hoping to gently and briefly nuzzle the side of her snout in tender greeting, sighing, "Sif." 

The ex-priestess does pull back slightly then, feeling a hint of anxiety threatening her relief. Perhaps... perhaps Sif did not want to be found by her. Perhaps her decision to leave Wardruna had included her as well; she'd contemplated these ideas before, and had no intention of overstepping if Sif did not want her near, but... faced with that possibility directly, she feels her earlier confidence start to crumble slightly. Her expression flickers but does not change, though no more words escape her, waiting for Sif to speak before she moves again.

Almost as if hearing her, the shape turned its luminous eyes in her direction, and a moment later, shouted a name. Her name - or her old one. But it was not the word or the name she was concerned with, but the voice that spoke it.

"Poet!" the girl rejoined, her legs suddenly too clumsy to carry her; she stood stock-still as her sister-wife approached, and could only dip her head to take in the other's scent when they met. But, gradually, motion began to return to her. Her tail wagged and her ears flickered, and she stepped into her sister's comforting embrace.

"I miss you," she whispered, overjoyed to be with her once again. "Miss me?"

Tethered between moments Poet waits, breath held. If Sif is to turn away from her now, oh. But the moment does not come to pass as her ... friend? now turns to her, returns her embrace. Relief overcomes her, a shy smile stealing onto her normally cool features. 

"I did," she whispers back, a nervous laugh escaping her. "I, I left the Valley. I wanted to see you again." Out loud it sounds as strangely impulsive as it'd been, though of course Poet is no stranger to impulsive decisions. She ducks her head, laughs again, less nervous and more pleased. "How have you been?"