Firefly Glen [phe] ageless

backdated! hoping for a @Chacal

Toula sang as she sought out gifts for the mother of @Etienne. she discovered things of assorted shades in the color of the Pearl she bore—and considered, too, gifts from her own homeland. 
it was a beautiful day—her hymn was one to Iset, gratitude in each and every note. fortune had been kind, thus far—and she prayed for such to continue.

Chacal rested in the shade, dozing lightly while she could, in a lull of the general hubbub. Her eyes opened occasionally, as she swam close enough to consciousness to be easily awakened, before they slid closed again. Gentle breaths fanned the yellowing grass in repetitive waves. While she placed her absolute trust in Val to be in charge of their attendees while she slept, she felt exposed without having the ocean at her back.

It was not a shout or a cry that caused her ears to flick, but a tune hummed by an unfamiliar voice. At first, she thought it was a part of a dream- but when the melody tugged at her ears, being in a mode she was not familiar with, she opened her eyes and looked around trying to spot the source.

she had not meant to disturb anyone, but when she sees eyes touched by sleep while she hunts for gifts Toula pauses in her hymn. oh! I am so sorry, I did not mean to disturb you—I suppose I got carried away, she lowers her head with her apology, realizing the truth of these words. she gave all of herself to each prayer, each song… it was time spent with Them. she felt Iset with her.
I can leave you to your rest, if you would like she offers, not hoping to flee from her company but offering to let the woman resume in her moment of peace and quiet. Toula felt guilty, having interrupted this!

She blinked and sat back on her haunches once she had risen, ears flitting back in an apology that mirrored the expression on the regal woman’s face. By her scent, Chacal discerned that she must be from Akashingo- the wealthy kingdom, it seemed. Was this perhaps the wife of the man who had offered to shower her with gifts? By her voice, she might has well have been divine, and worthy of them.

Chacal would not send her away, not if it meant she would lose the thread of melody the woman had woven. To tempt it from her again she tapped the ground with her foot, beckoning- and repeated in a soft hum the last line she had heard before she had opened her eyes.