Dawnlark Plains all my dreams are in a width of languages my tongue can speak

she found Aviana soon enough, or perhaps, it was the other way around. her head twisted to catch sight of the woman, not bothering to try quite for a smile and instead offering a chuff in return. to her question, she offered a weary, "I'm alright."  she was doing fine, if fine meant just remaining above the surface of her grief, her duties. 

she didn't care for wallowing, not now and not anymore, and thus she paused in her step, quick to suggest what had been on her mind. "hunt with me?"  they could not then, when they had goal, purpose, some task that would have her feeling useful.