Silvertip Mountain holy holy

  The two girls, who so brazenly walked upon a woman in repose, suddenly seemed to shrink and grow smaller. The was one who looked very similar to how she did, all petite and milky and slight of frame, and another with a beautiful, buxom coat and a build that spoke strength — but they both spoke softly and with few words. Meekly, they negotiated the situation and established that all three of them were, indeed, strangers — but not for much longer. Dalia. Olive gave the girl a succinct nod, committing it to memory. Eirlys. Olive gave another shake of her head, but stopped abruptly in her half-nod. Eirly’s last name immediately registered in her memory. 

“Fearghal….?”

There was a lurch of her stomach initially, but Olive knew better than to jump to any conclusions here. She was not in any place to alienate a potential friends, and there might be a million reasons why this girl carried the Fearghal name — and, no matter the reason, not all members of that family wished harm upon her. This girl, who so innocently approached her, clearly did not know who she was or wished her harm! But would Eirlys’s opinion change once she had shared her name…? 

“I’m Olive.” she spoke in a matter-of-fact tone, waiting for recognition to bloom upon the toffee colored girl’s visage, for certainly Arturo had spoken of her to his family — albeit, unkindly. The druid waited for her past misgivings to ruin yet another relationship… this time, before it even had a chance to blossom. Olive turned to Dalia, giving her a look as if to say can you believe such a coincidence?