The Sentinels I'm a vegetarian and I ain't fucking scared of him

The normally ebullient bard had been unnaturally subdued as of late, and today was no exception. Her conversation with Dagfinn had left her with a great deal to think about, and much of this thinking was done on the move — preferably wandering through the weald or climbing mountains. Lotte had only just reached the borders of Donnelaith after one such excursion when a familiar summoning howl rose above the sanctuary of sequoias, immediately capturing her attention. The voice had deepened slightly and rounded out as Chusi had matured, but the chord it struck within Lotte’s heartstrings was unmistakable. Soot-stockinged legs snapped into a headlong sprint, black-masked face breaking into a smile, and a joyous cry erupted from her:

“Ai, minun päiväperhonen on palannut!”

The girl had grown considerably, and though Lotte had expected as much given her age, it came as a bit of a shock. Spindly, gangly legs had lengthened and were nearly as strong and sturdy as Lotte’s own; pride and confidence colored the girl’s lean, muscular physique; and in the ocher eyes Lotte remembered so well was a wider understanding of the world. “Arturo is making a warrior of you, pikkusisko,” the smoke-and-shadow rogue said fondly. “I have missed you very much, Chusi! How are you? How fares Teaghlaigh?” Out of habit, she aimed to nuzzle the girl’s cheek with the wet of her nose in a playful kiss, though if Chusi was averse to such affection she would give the youth some space.