Hushed Willows Now I see fire, inside the mountain

It started to rain earlier, but seemingly stopped. Her coat was gently drenched, but only so on the surface, her skin felt dry. Something felt off about the land for the past few days, like an omnious feeling that plagued the Guard. It wasn't just about a possible war, or the constant intruding of others, it simply felt.. Something was coming.

She stalked the border more closely for the following days, for any signs to be.

Kincaid was coming back from a quick jaunt toward the ocean, damp and disgruntled and carrying with him a deer skull filled with strange plants. He'd meant it as a gift for the court, and the seashells also conveniently tucked inside a gift for Valette.

When he saw Orlaith, he trotted forward with a muffled woof and then set the skull aside on a convenient rock when he was near enough to hold conversation.

"Ma'am," he greeted her with a wag of his tail. "What a thing it is 'bout this weather. Gave me an awful feelin', comin' back from them haunted fields."

Orlaith, raised a brow to the skull, seeing some herbs sticking out of it. Since the man stuck so close to Kincaid, she assumed it was somesort of odd item for the lilac woman.  Though it wasn't really her business, as it brought no harm to the court, nor' herself, "Yeah," she said, huffing, "It doesn't look like it'll stop."

"Hopefully the Willows won't be flooded."

At Orlaith's prediction, Kin lifted his head to squint up through the canopy, his hackles raising gently at the strange change in atmosphere. It figured he'd arrived in this land only just in time for the monsoon season — but there was nothing for it, now.

"Well, there could be some by the crick over yonder," he said with a little sigh, but his sights were set higher on the mountain. "This high on the watershed, I'd be more worried about mudslides than flash floods. There's some places back up against the rise I'd tell folks t'keep well away of. Stick t'the edges of the woods, where no one kin get stuck, anythan starts comin' down."

Kincaid nodded in the direction of the dens. "Folk'll be tryin' t'get outta the downpour, but a wolf kin get trapped real easy in them caves if the mountainside's compromised."

What the fuck was he saying.

It took a moment for her to process whatever tom-foolery he was speaking of. She was used to the eloquence the fairies would speak, and the mannerisms of a noble. However, she had forgotten for some time this was no longer the court of the past, but a land where everyone came from somewhere different. His language was so odd.

"I suppose that's something should tell to Lumiya," from what Orlaith gathered, he spoke of landslides. It was true while the willows were generally on flat-land, they were very knit to the mountain. Anything that fell from beyond, would fall into their forest. Even worse, if a rock fell into the denning area, they would be trapped.

"It's going to be a difficult season," she was already having a headache about everything else.

Kincaid was not sure whether he or Orlaith was meant to convey this information to Lumiya, so he decided he'd mention it to her the next time they met, just to be safe. Perhaps when he handed over the skull and the herbs, he could say something.

The male gave an amiable shrug as she bemoaned the luck of the season. "There's always somethin' goin' wrong," he advised, before he could think better of sticking his nose in the "fire faerie's" business. "Best we kin do is take it day by day, lookin' for the good times in e'ry moment. Nothin' t'be done for a bit of weather. Just keep safe, s'all."

This was all well and good for Kincaid, who had never had to worry about anyone other than himself, and the wayward Nine Lives, of course.

She still didn't understand!

"We only been here a few months, i'm hoping it's just the season." They haven't been at the wilds for a year, rather less then so. The determination for Lumiya to set up the court was strong, but majority of it's members were not from the lands, and have not been to it long. Supposed it should be asked if it's always like this..

"At least not too many will disturb the willows then," it would be a sigh of relief if true.

Kincaid gave a thought hum, thinking it was likely as Orlaith hoped; aside from the marsh, the land didn't seem like it'd been formed overmuch by rainfall. The woods were deep, but not the sort of rainforest he associated with hesd-round downpour.

As Orlaith was confused by his words, so was he by hers. Why did she think no one would bother them? This seemed a strange non-sequitur to the ruddy male, but he acknowledged it with a polite nod.

Let's all hope so, he agreed, stepping back toward the skull. You know where you folk keep your medicine?

She thought with the focus of flooding, Packs would be too busy focusing in their own worries then to pick on the fae-folk. She had been guarding the borders quite protectively due to how many visitors were getting, and she only hoped it would lesson. It was getting bothersome, to say the least.

"Nah," Orlaith shook her head, "I don't know much where they keep stuff, sorry." She said with honesty, as one who normally was not in the main area, she doesn't know it too much. Or, she forgot.