Sea Lion Shores 1957

All welcome of course, but maybe possibly hoping for @Doe (if you have the time) and/or maybeee @Muses? 

Ugh! The sadness persisted! Armand had seemingly disappeared, right out from under her perceptive nose. She had not expected this to happen and Olive felt somewhat foolish for having brought such a flighty character to their doorstep. But it could not have been helped; he had asked her for safety and by god Olive’s bleeding heart was going to give it to him. The golden boy could still return, though. Perhaps he had encountered trouble in his travels and had been detained. Olive wondered if she should follow him and see if he needed help [she felt somewhat responsibly for the boy’s wellbeing, even though she didn’t seem to do a very good job]. However, the days continued to pass and each new morning brought with it less and less hope that he would return. Then, Olive stopped thinking about it.

There was the matter of the fire which obliterated Donnelaith, toasted the sentinels, took many lives and caused several others to defect. Secondary effects held a wide berth around the inferno’s epicenter as well. The druid scattered aromatic peppermint leaves around her home [the beloved stony grotto] and the dens of the other family members in order to awaken and refresh their senses, which had all been dulled by the persistent soot and smoke. Though the fire had been rather far from Ravensblood, they still felt the effects strong in the influx of environmental toxins and the general negative aura of the coast during such turbulent times. Olive also found and stored boughs of wintersweet and honeysuckle, both of which flourished in the winter snows. Soft, saccharine undertones drifted from the honeysuckle’s creamy flowers would pacify them. Wintersweet’s spice might serve to distract their busy minds, even if just for a moment. Olive may not have prowess in healing, but the woman knew botany and could skillfully bend plants to her will in more... emotional and metaphysical ways. 

When Arturo and Lotte and Chusi and Dakarai and Isley were settled back home, Olive departed. She carried the aforementioned blooms in her jaws with the full intention of bringing them to the crisped remains of the centurion forest. Olive had a vivid picture in her head of a beautiful fragrant bouquet of pale flowers standing starkly amongst the char and black soot — and she was determined to recreate it, to honor the fallen in such a way. However, Olive’s spirit was weak and feeble from the abuse and she soon succumbed to exhaustion only a few miles from Ravensblood, on Sea Lion Shores. Olive gently released the bouquet upon the sand, lay her haunches down and slowed the heaving of her breath.