Emberwood coquilles.

Maybe @Lumiya or another fey? Some ambiguous place between the Emberwood, Herb Cache, soggy wetland.

The little red girl would be safe in the mountains, Stryx reasoned to herself, and she trusted that Praimfaya would keep watch over her for at least a few days. It was pretty shitty of her to leave the child behind without any warning but childcare was not high on her list of priorities, and deep down she was glad to be rid of the extra mouth to feed, as well as the other responsibilities that came with having someone so young tagging along.

Stryx headed north from the mountains and through the adjacent meadow without looking back. She enjoyed the sight of the rolling hills, the heady aroma of sun baked grass and all the wildflowers that grew chaotically in her path. Some of them she plucked. A few she chewed as she roamed. She did not think to hide any of them away because there was an abundance of it.

When a shady segment of forest presented itself she ducked inside, seeking the cool shadows, at which point Stryx realized how dehydrated she was, so with a new goal in mind she began to scour the area for any ponds, creeks, or other bodies of water with which to slake her thirst. All she could find was, of course, the wetland; there was ample fluid here any other time of the year but the summer heat had withered much of it away by now. Tepid pools lingered behind and she did not like the looks of them.

Imma say this is after the thread I just put up for Soltero

The queen fae was getting tired of waiting - het stomach was in a knot and her thoughts in a hurry. The poor thing couldn't catch a break nowadays. She didn't regret becoming what she had become, nor establishing her court of wonders... She regretted not ripping Donovan's throat at when she had the chance to do so. Wow, where had that come from? Her thoughts were usually not that violent, she disappointed herself.

She made her way down the ridge with ease, her legs only but a little soar after her journey. Her eyes scanned the horizon, hoping to spot Dante - her lovely little mouse - and they never left there until she entered a forest of sorts. It was much wetter than their willow forest, but the fresh scent of herbs caught her attention. If only she knew what to look for, she'd get a gift for Deidra to take with her.

She wasn't paying much attention to anything but the scent of the plants around her, trying to sniff out something that resembled whatever putty Deidra had put on her infected pinprick.

Stryx managed to plod her way across a band of dry earth and when she came to the terminus point, attempted to stride over a gap which was usually full of murkwater, and then thought better of it. She teetered there a moment with her forelimb outstretched.

Her hind paws tucked neatly against her front, her back arched and tail up for counter-balance, she might have fallen if she'd moved at just the wrong angle. Instead she took a moment to place her paw down again and ducked, watching her footwork, setting back against the loam. Bits of soil came loose and tumbled in to the stagnant pool beyond where her toes hooked the ground.

It wouldn't be awful to step in to the water. She could spy the mosquito larvae wriggling inside, and imagined there'd be all kinds of other things there too. It had been a poor choice to cross the bog and she considered returning the way she'd come; the plunge would leave her slick-furred with algae and that was a level of discomfort she'd like to avoid.

As Stryx peered around on the search for somewhere stable to advance to, she saw something moving further out from her position. It was blurry at first - the immediate surroundings wavered like a mirage under the heat of the summer sun - and slowly the stranger approached, more fluid than the physician had ever been.

They looked like they were collecting snippets of moss from some of the stones, or maybe clusters of weeds that grew suspended over the water. Another physician perhaps...? An herbalist at the very least. Stryx gave a furtive glance at the dirt and decided to take the chance of a wet landing, then launched from her perch — scrambling as her paws touched down again, but managing to make it over the gap without too much fuss after all.

Her ear twitched at the sound of another, and she was immediately sent into a flurry of panic - she snapped whatever branch she was nosing and nearly tumbled back-first into a stinking pond. She was able to balance herself, luckily she was a light thing otherwise gravity would've gotten the best of her. Her head whipped around to spot an older woman dressed in a gown of coal-tipped grey with an undercoat of a soft cream. Her eyes were a lighter shade of the water around here, melancholy almost. From the looks of it, the woman was no Saint - in the most positive way that could be taken - but appearances deceived and the queen fae was on edge.

Greetings. She dipped her muzzle, eyes never leaving the woman's frame just to be sure. Do you come from the mountains? Was her first question - quite a normal one if one didn't know the context of it, but it was crucial for the girl to know to be able to trust the other. The saints were dumb and arrogant, they'd most likely only lie about where they came from if this was a pre-planned attack... in which case, she was screwed.

She could not tell why the other wolf looked so sour, but approached all the same, only pausing at a decent distance when their voice came drifting her way. A greeting — a question. Their posture gave Stryx the impression of someone who was quite nervous but there was an innocence to the woman's gaze, a softening quality, which could have been mere youth.

The mountains? I did, some days ago. Stryx explained. Her lethargic expression shifted to one of brief concern, her face pinching in a frown. I roam all over. Do you also come from the mountains? Are you lost, or... In need of help? Her ears twisted forwards to show she was listening intently to the other wolf, and while she studied them she took note of the scents in the air. The stranger's scent was strong but layered; somewhat floral, although Stryx could not place what sort of flower. Grassy, almost.

Only now that the other was closer could she take a good sniff of them; there clung no pack scent to their coat, at least none she recognized, and also not the scent of Donovan and his followers. Her muscles loosened, especially as the woman went on to explain her situation then asked for her own. She'd been won over at that point; this was not a Saint and she could probably chill for now. Silently, she let out a soft sigh at this realization.

The fae shook her head, for the first time closing her eyes during this meeting. I'm not lost - though I am in dire need of help, but I'm afraid it's not a one-woman job. Lumi lightly joked, the traces of a tired smile on her muzzle. She was warming up her people skills again after not knowing where the next Saint was going to come from. I'm Lumiya - fae queen of the Seelie Court. We're settled in a willow forest back that way. She pointed with her muzzle in the general area of her realm. My court and many other packs have been getting terrorized by a group of crazy wolves calling themselves The Saints - That's why I was so wary of you. I do apologize. She explained herself, this time curtsying for real. It was never a bad time to start over.

Everything made sense once the woman had explained herself. Stryx pocketed her name and otherwise remained focused and attentive, still concerned that something more was amiss, and her expression only deepened in to one of further consternation when Lumiya mentioned the Saints. Of course it was Donovan and his cronies causing a fuss, yet again. The man never knew when to step back and leave well enough alone; as if he was fully determined to alienate every living thing. She wondered if he enjoyed sewing chaos in these Wilds, or if he merely did it to power the pity train that no doubt followed after.

Do not apologize, Stryx would have waved away the commentary with a flippy little hand if she had the capability. She shook her head instead, a sigh tumbling out of her. I know of them. It does not surprise me in the slightest that they've brought their animosity to the natives of this region... But it would keep her busy with plenty of work too, of which she could not complain.

Are your people injured? If you permit me entry to your willows, I can apply my training and help to mend them. If that is of any consolation. But what would stop Donovan from raiding the woman's home again? What was the point of Stryx being here and helping anyone if they were bound by fate to be targeted repeatedly? It felt like a doomed cause; but she had to offer, and she had to try.

Of course the woman knew of them - with a rep that bad, the fae didn't doubt that soon even the hinterlands would know of them. And that was for the better! The more wolves knew of their crimes, the more would turn against them and try and do something about it. Lumiya and her faeries were but one of the many packs caught in the crossfire, but together they could make a difference! Even if she had to resort to despicable means, she'd return balance to this realm.

Have they gotten you, too? The fae asks worriedly. If one of their members could take Orlaith, she knew they were physically capable at the very least. Their brains might not work as well as the more civilized fae folk, but they couldn't match them in brawn.

She shook her head yet again. You're more than welcome in our forest, but so far only our best warrior has gotten some scratches. We sent a Saint home bleeding and yapping though, but I wasn't there to witness. There was a hint of pride in her voice as she said this. I doubt the Saints are done pestering us though, so we'd be more than thankful for your help with the wounded.

I've never been their target, but I have seen the results of their attention. She explained in the next moment, answering Lumiya's question succinctly. It was terrible to think of how Praimfaya had suffered, how she had come so close to death. If that's what you got for merely visiting (and prior to a proper claim being established) then Stryx did not want to know what the Saints would do once their claim was legitimate.

Lumiya was more than happy to accept her aid, as most were. It was good to hear that her people were not suffering to any great extent; but it could only get worse, she reasoned. Donovan seemed to enjoy the struggles he caused, and if Lumiya had become his newest fixation, she was in ever-present danger. It was too bad Stryx could not fight for her; she doubted talking to Donovan or appealing to him would do much good either. If nothing else, he knew what he wanted and how to get it.

Stryx is quiet for a moment. She has not stopped thinking about all that she's seen, what she's learned about the wolves of this region, and she feels compelled by everything to offer more; but she knows she cannot, not if she is to keep with her vows and honour the women of the Order, as is required of her.

But she's been contemplating that too. Ever since Raleska. Ever sine Erzulie, who had built a life for herself outside of her training. (Perhaps you might see its appeal this time, Erzulie suggested, days ago, in reference to the arid coast; it was an offer Stryx did not heed because she was not ready to.) She was compelled to stay in the area for Connie's sake, too, but the Saints were a threat—and she still held Donovan's blessing for what it was worth. Too many things were at play in her mind.

If I were to... pledge myself to you, or to your people, Stryx pondered aloud, her gaze lingering upon Lumiya's youthful face, I could mend those who need it. But my knowledge came to me at a price. I had to swear to uphold a certain lifestyle, and I would be travelling a lot. If I kept myself contained to this valley—not just your willows, but to all those that require aid in this region—would I still be welcome?

It was the only way she could honour her vows without outright breaking them; it was a slight bend to the rules ingrained within her, and while her teachers would not have been pleased, they lived in a world far from the present and Stryx could handle a little rebellion if it meant rendering aid in a time of crises.

She was sure that a traveling healer in these parts had seen the Saints horrific handiwork. The faeries had been lucky not to have any of them critically wounded - especially when Donovan himself had shown up. Then again, he didn't have a cult-following back then. The scents in their former settlement had been weak and perhaps he couldn't risk getting killed inside the court's lands just yet. The time would come, Lumiya hoped - though she'd rather not slay him herself, mostly because she was most likely incapable of doing so, it would bring her immense pleasure to see the center of the violence, the butterfly flap that had caused this storm, die out.

Her ears pressed forward then, listening intently to the other's words. Lumi assumed that, with Hell breaking loose here, any soul would want to flee as far as they could. She hadn't expected a pledge, especially from this stranger she did not even know the name of - but it was the act of Fate she needed to regain hope. Everyone with a pure soul is welcome in our faerie court. She assured with a warm smile, a glint in her eyes that wasn't there before. We mend the broken, much like you do - though having a traveling medic among our ranks... That would be very neat, I think. She elaborated, ending with; And we have many allies in the area. I think they'd appreciate your help too.

She could imagine the elders' combined looks of utter frustration at the explanation Stryx had given; some would be rolling in their graves, others would have raised their shrewd voices in protest. But they were not here to prescribe a different solution and Stryx did not feel a strong enough measure of guilt about it yet. The woman anticipated confusion from Lumiya, or questions. Neither came—only acceptance, which stunned Stryx.

Aside from her own family (who were not the most accepting of individuals) and the Order, Stryx had very little experience with family groups; she did not think her lifestyle would be something a group would facilitate, so having Lumiya accept her outright was something she had not expected. A part of her wanted to withdraw all considerations immediately but that was a knee jerk response, a measure of self preservation in the face of a changing atmosphere and she knew that was a foolish thing to even consider, couched in a childish fear of change. It was a passing doubt.

Then, I suppose I should introduce myself properly. I am Stryx, of the Shydawn Basin, physician of the Asklepeion Order. It was all very... clunky, abnormal upon her tongue. I pledge myself to you Lumiya, and those that serve you.

Lumiya could relate all too well to not being accepted by family - she'd been cast out of her own, but had found a new one instead. She did not uphold her old family's traditions, nor did she think herself related to them anymore. Despite this, she had kept their name - for she would be the Melonii to break the chain of hatred and pain. She'd bring chance for the better to this realm, watch it bloom from afar while expecting nothing in return. She couldn't yet, not with the Saints present, but once that evil had been conquered she knew spirits would soar and Fate would bless her court.

She dipped her muzzle. It's very nice to meet you. She spoke sweetly, meaning it. Stryx's title was a mouthful, but it sounded sophisticated. She smiled then. Thank you - if you're done with this place, please let me show you our forest.

Despite her pledge, the invitation to go home with this pleasant enough woman was met with a strained look; a flicker of indecision. She wouldn't recant what she'd said but Stryx wasn't ready to go with Lumiya yet. She still had the taste of freedom on her tongue. Another day, maybe. She refutes sharply, a bit too unkind in the heat of the moment. Then she's glancing at the girl apologetically with a little frown on her face.

Sorry - I mean, you don't sound like you need me that badly right now. I have a mission to adhere to. My vows require I keep on the move. But I will come back this way in a day or two. It wasn't much of an explanation; but Stryx had presumed this girl had understood her to some degree, and accepted her pledge in spite of it. Is that... acceptable?

Her smile never faded - though she hadn't expected their traveling medic to go so soon, it was only natural really. The court had no wounded just yet, though who knows when that might change - and even then they had sweet little Deidra to take care of them. The girl could only do so much on her own of course, but it was a safety net the queen fae was most thankful for.

Understandable - our forest is hard to miss, tucked away against the mountains and shielded by curtains of willow branches. She nodded, then informed. She wasn't sure if she'd be able to make it back here if and when the Saints were on their doorstep, and so she couldn't promise that she'd meet Stryx here. I think it's best if I return there, anything could happen in my absence and I want to be prepared for a potential attack.

Stryx added to her mental notes about the woman, her scent, and the previously mentioned direction of her home territory, and added the extra details in to the mix; she would keep her eyes out for another mountain and her nose ready for willow trees, which she now could identify as the floral-grassy scent upon Lumiya.

When the woman made her departure Stryx nodded, wishing her well. Safe travels. I will not be long; I haven't been this way before and wanted to map the area a little bit - ah, so see you soon. She didn't want to include additional truth of the matter: Stryx was already very nervous about her pledge. But without anything else to add, she turned and began navigating her way through the bog away from Lumiya. They would see one another soon.