Sea Lion Shores 1957

I thought it'd make sense for Olive's personality to follow Doe, but it's totally up to you if Doe notices/cares/engages her! If she doesn't, we can archive! Thank you for the thread <3

Olive shifted her body nervously as her words were gravely misconstrued. Upon Doe's first reaction [which was accusatory in turn, Olive would later think as she mulled over the confrontation] Olive's ears pressed hard against her skull and discontent burned deep within her chest. Chastisement never sat well with the pale woman; she rarely received it [somehow] but when she did, Olive could feel herself become small, unsure and often would draw into herself. Of course, Doe's volatile reaction to Olive's brand of empathy had been unprompted and unwarranted [at least from what she had been able to glean]... so she sat silently, acutely receptive, and she continued to watch the gears churn and grind in the other's frazzled mind. Eventually her spurned, peridot gaze slipped from Doe's acidic mouth to the crushed bouquet below. The broken boughs of winter flora represented how she felt at that moment - abused, taken forgranted and under the paw of someone whose clearly did not want her there. It cut her deeply. 

Olive's attention snapped back to Doe as her voice rose to a near shriek, the sound piercing and the content somewhat disturbing. Knew nothing of slavery, did she? Doe was wrong: the fae was a humbled slave to the universe, earth and the currents of nature. She felt the powerful energies and vibrational patterns of the land as much as she felt her own heart beating within her ribcage. She was too a servant to Teaghlaigh and the family, small as they may be.  It had taken and adjustment period for her to feel this devotion, but she cared for the safety of the family and her lover above even her own. They were both sweet forms of slavery; but servitude nonetheless.

It was an intriguing combination of freedom and servitude that ruled Olive's existence and oftentimes it felt as though she had ropes tied around her legs, pulling her in every which direction.  Though the stars were somewhat the culprit, but Olive also found solace and direction in their readings.

The words that composed Doe's soliloquy were seemingly random; lamentations strung together at the behest of a tortured soul. Bewildered, she backpedaled and slipped away - but Olive, always the public servant, could not linger here and let this poor woman suffer alone. If Olive truly wished to bring peace to this land, was this not a disconsolate example of the suffering she wished to abate? "Doe!" Olive called out as the strange shewolf slipped from sight. Casting aside their woeful introduction, Olive threw herself into a pursuit. Perhaps the Cairn preferred to suffer in silence; a choice Olive would respect should her gentle advances be rebuffed. If that were the case, Olive would continue on to Donnelaith [albeit reluctantly] - as the wolves of the Depths may know the way to best mollify their leader.