Wapun Meadow rain fell and collected in the hollows of their palms

She is not surprised by Wardruna's appearance, and although she had not anticipated it, she finds it welcome. She could get used to the way he delivers her name, that tiny fragment of herself she will not let go. "Wardruna," the ex-Priestess returns, her smoky voice muffled by the lavender clutched between her teeth. The brush of muzzle is allowed, a gentle thing, before she lowers the bundle to rest by her feet and pulls back up to nose him properly. "How have you been keeping?" She asks, tone low and silky. She has not seen much of him, in truth, preferring to spend her time on her project. But she supposed she must be careful to not let it consume her; Wardruna and Sif deserve her time just as much.