Blackfoot Forest light and vibration

whatever words fell from her lips, there were muted. perhaps they were whispered or, better yet, merely implied by the curve of her lips and the occasional flick of her tongue. she dared not speak the words aloud out of fear of being discovered. hosannah was so absorbed in her ritual that she did not know she was being watched. had she known however, she would have promptly stopped and potentially let the spotlighting guide her. her faith was not something she was willing to share with these wolves just yet. she felt weak here, weakened further by the onslaught of bugs and ensuing barrenness of the world — but with her prayers she hoped to incite some form of growth. the forest had to be restored so that the wolves may survive, and only then would she pursue her original mission.

with her prayer ending, she mouthed the final words and raised her head. the onlooker was behind her, and the wind was in his favor. she did not know of him even as she stood up, gathered her herbs, and headed off a few feet in search of something. she busies herself with the soil, worrying at it with her toes, and before long the collection of herbs is gone, and she is returning. doubling back towards her prayer point, she spots the halted figure of another wolf - and her short fur bristles slightly, feeling exposed.

the closer she got, the easier it was to determine which wolf this was. aaron, she hums softly, and takes a slow breath to steady herself. she has not seen him since the locusts arrived, and those moments were hectic, easily forgotten among the craze of activity. oh - but she remembers gotham next, and her nervousness turns in to sorrow. do you... fare well? hosannah asks as level as she can, but it is hard for the gaunt woman to avoid sounding tired.