Heron Lake Plateau and when you wanted me, i came to you

the haggard crone busied herself between till and earth, listening to the pause that hung between them. ceara spoke at length, though it was not without consideration -- all the same the siren toiled the rough gouges of earth, never pausing in her hearty digging.

ceara spoke of her family, of redhawks and their origins -- yet as caiaphas listened, she believed she was listening to the wolf's struggles with her own identity (and subsequent abandonment)-- certainly, making a name for oneself in an immeasurable clan was a herculean task.

caiaphas understood, well as she was able.

she thought the naming convention ceara mentioned strange, but did not question it -- each clan had their own rulings, some beyond the hope of understanding lest you shared their blood. caiaphas ruminated over a broken split of rock, not at all taken aback by ceara's willingness to share.

"that is unfortunate," she replied after lengthy pause -- an inadequate surmisal, but one meant genuinely. "yet i have learned you cannot put your faith in others, or places. they will let you down." she spoke with experience then, her expression as dark as the faithless twinge in her voice. "i am sorry you lost your brother. perhaps the pieces he leaves behind will be arranged in your favor. time only will be one to tell."