Jade Fern Grove find what you love and let it kill you

Her mood had been focused upon the striped quarters of Sriracha's form as others drifted onto the scene. To be truthful, the wench still had some reparations to complete; many memories she did not wish to recall did not surface in amongst her present thoughts, spare those featuring the pale pelt of her younger sister. It would take time, but the healing vixen was driven to heal what bonds she had broken since her departing.

A loud bark tore her focus off of the kind sir and onto a rather enthusiastic fellow with a pelt of earthy reds and browns. "Hey wha-" she cried, back-pedalling as fast as her shaky legs would allow her to. "I.." With a confused and rather startled expression, she sought the russet fur of Racoon. So many things going on at once, she wondered if perhaps it had been a mistake to appear at the gathering.

A pale figure approached the two from behind, one so familiar the wreck could almost cry out with relief. "Ocra," she croaked, refusing to recognise the boisterous brute and instead look upon her kin with an expression quite alike to "please, I'm not ready" before lapsing into an estranged silence as Sriracha began to speak.

Like the mumbling shard she was, Elora would avert her gaze rather awkwardly to her paws as she awaited the introduction of others. Clearly she had no intent on speaking first to the crowd.