Wapun Meadow i have no mother, i have no father, i have no face

The three were playing, so it seemed, and the sight of it brought a smile to Olive’s face. They reminded her of her children  — innocent and wanting of fun — and it reminded Olive of what she so missed in her life. Everything was so serious now, but then again, hadn’t it always been serious? Hadn’t she been raised to think of the purpose that lay behind everything that existed, and to question its raison d’être? Why did everything that to have a purpose, so serious; why couldn’t it just be for fun?

— and almost Olive dove to join them, but the trio directed their attention towards her and her playful attempt was rendered needless.  First it was the canine-like girl, the one who clearly wasn’t entirely wolf, and then another young one with striking markings adorning her ribcage. Then, finally, the elegant one with the legs came and was the one who eventually addressed her. 

Olive dipped her maw in a subtle, fluid bow. They were friendly, and for that Olive was thankful. She recited “Poet, Sif,” but her words released into a bubble of giggles as the canine one breached the physical barrier and assesses her with scent, trying to scry what she could from her chemical indicators. “and you are?” the fae asked, and only waited a second before turning her attentions to the others and voicing her second question. “Are you all friends?” Clearly they all knew each other, but Olive was eager to learn more about them.