Tormented Tarns children of the mist

The midday sun stung his eyes as they made their way onto the tarn, the sound of insects and frogs welcoming them to yet another new place. Dirge had taken the lead at some point in their venture, uncharacteristically quiet for a change. His gold eyes scanned the damp path ahead of them but saw nothing out of the ordinary. It had been much of the same for the last few miles and like him, all was quiet outside of the ambiance. The only thing that may have been different was the placement of the mountains, where the towering peaks had been visible earlier they were now covered by the rise of the forests, only seen through slivers of branches and green.

Now those things, they interested him. Mountains were familiar, comforting. He would have never admitted to be relieved to see them again, but he suspected that the feeling may have been mutual with his siblings. They weren't home, but he had no interest in going back there if he could help it. Home was really quite a subjective thing for an Ostrega, though he didn't know exactly what it meant to be one of those either. It was a name, nothing more, and as far as he had been concerned he had been a Winterheart more than an elusive shadow chased away.

A sound off behind him stole his attention; he peered back to his sisters, ever in tow.

He smiled as he turned his head back forward. They were still following along, not that he expected them to go gamboling off any time soon. The trio had stuck together thus far, though once upon a time they had been a quintet. Whatever had become of the other two in their litter he didn't know as they hadn't decided to come along. It seemed whatever their father had imparted to them – other than half of the reason they were alive – hadn't spread to all of them, and that only made it seem vaguely like a disease.

@Saor @Nyx Ostrega