Moonspear ausdauer ist eine kunst

tags for ref. will record this in cc
arrived on 9/4th. leaving on 9/11th

Whether by invitation or command, the herald had been summoned by Moonspear's queen, and though answering such had been halted by the return of @Erzulie's eälótë, it could have been hardly been called a burden in the time spent with young, earthborn @Clementine. The strider had departed from the riverlands with a kiss to Isilmë's brow, a caress to @Dragomir's unmarked cheek, mother's words of love to both, and, finally, a prediction to @Ira and @Vercingetorix that she would return, swiftly as she could, after the next several dawns.

Aurëwen would not idle away the remainder of Kaistleoki's hospitality, wandersome without purpose; one which her figure now again held; felt the insistent press of diligence, of labor in the places where evinyatar had kissed industrial ritual into her; felt the tethering as surely as she was that she would return.

She now walked the earth for something as profound, as indescribable and yet for something more than herself. It had been too long since she’s gone without feeling so purposeful.

Yet ... as her beckon for @Hydra issued from a lily throat, there was a falter in her gall; a misstep in her found fortitiude; but the silver turned to @Guildenstern with a murmured,  "Thank you for accepting my offer,"  and if it had not been the first time she's said such, then it may have very well been the third.

On and on the two pale specters had traveled across endless terrain. The journey had done nothing to dampen him; Guildenstern was alive when he was wandering. To be able to offer his services to the weary mother in a time that she needed it was not unlike the other tasks that he had shouldered in the past. Their travels had not been as extensive as the others that had carried him across endless plains of frozen tundra and dangerous cold. The warm summer air of the Teekon Wilds was an easy environment for the knight to take to. To have been born and tempered by the frigid northern winds, only to be set free in the light of the sun, was surely a blessing to the fighter.
 
At the base of the mountain – where their scent was strongest – the two white wanderers paused. The woman turned to him with a soft light in the silver of her gaze. Guildenstern regarded her without expression, taking time as his eyes wandered the narrow length of her muzzle and the softness of her gaze. She thanked him. For a moment, he felt taken aback by the extension of her appreciation. The offer in question was one that he could not have denied; it was his purpose for existence, after all.
 
“There is no need for thanks,” the wayward sellfang responded in his rumbling baritone.
 
Knowing not why they would venture to this point; Guildenstern drew his crown upward and waited to see who would greet them on the edges of the claim. A proud sigh expanded his lungs, filling his chest and extending his shape, before he released it. The warrior had managed to remain by her side until then and he did not imagine that he would be forced to leave her until his services had been expired. How long would she need him? That was still left unanswered. The pallid knight knew only that she could request he stay for as long as she might need him.

BANSHEE SCREAMS AT U BOTH.

Hydra returned the call with her own. @Alya and @Lyra both kept near the children, and Hydra was certain @Dirge was nearby too; she had spoken with him of her encounter with the pale she-wolf, and perhaps he might wish to meet her himself. The Queen descended the mountain with all the grace one born of it would carry—it was not the flitting, floating sort that so many from the flatlands seemed to possess; it was strong, and certain. The well-groomed Ostrega expertly picked her way down to them, making short work of it. The dark woman was a mother, but only looked it in the ways that her training could not negate; Hydra was a hale female, and motherhood had only served to make her harder and more severe.

The woman, she had observed, was not alone. He contrasted the wolf he was alongside in almost every way but for his furs; he was a sight to behold, broad and looking as strength itself might. Hydra met them with her tail aloft, her glacial blue eyes assessing as she took in the man for the first time, eyes passing over his own battle-scars without negative judgment. In fact, she thought the better of him for it—he was a fighter, clearly, and such wolves were always rewarded the credit due. Even when her gaze turned to the nymph, her attention did not leave him; it was for them both.

I see you have brought a guest, she observed aloud, wondering the reason for it. The last time they had met, she had been alone—she had come to stay, for a time, but with another. Her gaze turned to him, so that he might speak for himself. What is your name? She inquired, and then asked, Do you serve as an escort, or will you be staying as well? Better to know how much attention he required here and now, was it not?

In her wake, he had followed quietly. Not too close, perhaps not even enough to entirely give himself away. It was a sort of game that he played on his own and at times to her chagrin, but they were swift into the season where he blended in well. Though Hydra's eyes were very keen and her other senses just as sharp, it had long been a coy affair for one to seek another regardless if they had desired to be found.

With the children growing swift and ever full of questions far and wide, so had their ability to retain a certain independence as well—in turn what time he could get away from them to spend in the company of his dark-haired partner he took, no matter the obstacles therein. He had no more laid eyes on her at last when something drew her attention and thus his too: summons.

They were a curious sort, given their quiet doorstep... and onward he followed.

It was not long before they had both laid eyes on the pale pair through the pines and juts of stone, and it was there that Dirge quietly closed in the distance as Hydra spoke. She knew them and he spared not a question of how, but rather wondered what had brought them. The marred features of the she-wolf caught his attention, but then again they were weather-worn. His gaze did not linger on them long before he turned his attention to Hydra, intoning curiously: "Friends of yours?"

He couldn't imagine her extending an invitation so lightly otherwise.

if i hold this up for any length, feel free to skip. dirge is likely to be an observant party until otherwise.

shirt post. sorry all @ the holdup

Her sellfang’s declination of her wisping gratitude was met with a bit of bewilderment — and though Aurëwen would like to insist upon him that yes, there is all the need for thanks, the lady of the mountain soon descends to meet the two voyaging specters. At the query of guests the silver merely nods, half-sight flickering towards the burnished male at the matriarch’s side.

Namely, she’s brought him with her to exact tutelage upon Hydra’s children wherever the greenseer herself lacked, but ... she was more than certain that he could speak for himself.