Sea Lion Shores 1957

Doe came to… somewhat. She blinked up at her king and uttered a wispy sobriquet. Her voice was quiet and small; quite different from the shrieking of earlier, barely a whisper, as if it were meant for his ears only. But she was only weak, this Olive knew from the way her body slackened and lay against the ground. Strong negative energies buffeted the ashen druid, radiating out from the woman who was tortured so. Olive’s lips pulled back into a grimace and she gritted her teeth, turning her head away from where the two lay. The Leviathan known as Syzmon clearly was unsure of her, and she felt as if that deserved some distance and privacy. And really, who could blame him for his prejudice? The woman would react the same way if she found her shadowed lover in a feeble heap… probably worse, honestly. There was nothing she wouldn’t do for that dark man and she sympathized deeply with the Leviathan’s pain.

But then, his main began to change and he explain what Doe had attempted to grasp at earlier. Skellige was referred to as Szymon’s brother — but wasn't there a third relation? The mixed white and black male who she threatened upon Teaglaigh’s borders. Jagoda, was it? 

However, that thought process was derailed upon the mention of Donnelaith’s forest queen. Deirdre, the white witch who plucked her from death’s aqueous grip. Olive had greatly looked forward to the chance to see her once more and properly thank her for such a blessing. It had been no coincidence that the druid ended up in Teaghlaigh mere days later, to be allied with Deidre’s wolves only weeks later. But that chance was gone now, as fleeting as the forest gone up in tendrils of thick, choking smoke. The forest, which once stood guard of the peaceful faction, had betrayed them. Olive felt a new wave of sadness grip her and roll uneasily in her stomach — this was never an easy emotion to experience. Ugh, to feel so much! Olive’s neck followed the delicate turn of her head and soon the petite shewolf turned her entire being away from the two lovers. Doe was safe; Olive had accomplished her goal. They didn't need her anymore. 

There had been another who reentered the scene in the snow, the black sheepdog who was so silent Olive almost didn’t notice the addition in the midst of her woes. Olive’s peridot glazed gaze flicked to the woman, glinting in the sun. Was this another Blackrock Depths wolf, sent here to abuse her with their words? Olive was not entirely sure she liked these wolves... these infamous sea warriors she had heard so much about. This opinion surprised her truly, and she would eventually chock it all up to bad timing — but at this time, Olive felt a need to be strong.  Olive sought the woman’s own gaze and held it intensely [almost too intensely], even as a berry was nosed towards her. Berries were the druid's favorite delight, but she would not taste it just yet. Suddenly feeling strong in the face of adversity, Olive turned her head and spoke to all three strangers at once, not seeking to single anyone out. Her voice was soft, yet with strung with a small sense of power and confidence.

“There is always light within us that is free from all sorrow and grief, no matter how much we are experiencing suffering.” These warriors may or may not share her affinity for philosophy and feelings, but she could not hide who she was.