Hushed Willows [festival] so twice five miles of fertile ground

she swallows when her cousin asks the question, shaking her head ruefully in response. men bilmeymin, tashkent whispers. tipti olardıñ jüzderin körgen bolsam da, olardı jaqında ğana bilmeytinmin. and that makes her feel even more powerless—to think that she might have seen one of them, even from afar, and not known them for who they were. luks.

isleña's sob story goes mostly unheard by the princess, racked with her own grief. it is only the arrival of the pale woman, and her cousin's subsequent introduction, that she snaps out of it, half a smile oozing onto her face. hello, aure, she purrs, dipping her head in greeting. they are of similar stature but near-opposite pelages, like the moon and the sky that embraces it.

she snorts gently at isleña's quip, grinning fully now. o, men onı köretinime senimdimin, she says lewdly, sliding her tongue along her chops. she pauses in thought for a moment, weighing her options.

well. . .what options? she either goes with her cousin back to this drageda or continues to wander alone, untethered, without family. the latter seems excruciatingly hard to bear.

men kelemin, tasha answers decisively, nodding. she turns, then, to aure. does drageda have room for one more barbarian girl? she asks, raising her brows, a giggle in her query. i promise that i can be of use to your tribe. in infinite ways.