Overture Downs No matter where I sleep

Tension crackles and Liri struggles not to withdraw. Fearing she has upset him somehow, the fae freezes by his side - pallid shoulder afire where it lightly presses against Sorin's side. 

After a moment she feels a return in weight as if the raven has decided to rest against her in return. The healer doesn't read too deeply into it - it's easiest to accept that it's mere friendship, companionship. The wintry nights are cold, particularly when you're suffering from pneumonia. 

"Your mentor sounds wise. Nagka would have liked him, " a smile of fondness dimples upon her pale face - memories of gathering herbs, building stone cairns, of hours spent in the communal den studying dried bits of plant with the elderly spiritualist cross her mind. It had been Nagka who vouched for Liri's talents at the coming of age ceremony when she was but 6 months old. Nagka who insisted even as an outsider, Liri would be educated in the healing arts or they would find a new shaman.  "She was something like a mother to me."

"I don't know much about strength. It's comforting though, to think of those lost as being in such a beautiful place. Surely, they're happy there." A crease forms between her dark eyes, maternal concern for the younglings she had lost. 

"I'm sorry." 

Liri turns curiously - a soft, questioning look directed at the solemn raven.