Wapun Meadow ❝a kiss cannot reach her through the incrusting ivory.

The voice she cherished so much made her halt in the midst of whatever it was she was doing; argent eyes flurried open, and for a moment, a gladdenness pealed across her face to see who it was. In the next heartbeat, though, Aure registered what was being said with a furrow of her silver brow and a blink; the chiding tone of anger made her shiver herself out of bits of meadow that clung to her.

When Vercingetorix finally quieted and kept himself restrained from another tangent, the ivory crescented onto her side and onto her still-tendered belly, eyes leveled with his stormful ones. “I was thinking, actually,” came her low, lilting musing, “I was thinking that Mahler would like his stores replenished; I was thinking of taking his word on what to treat your throat with; of what to get for Drago, should he eat soil again.”

A soft, gnarled little rumble arrived in her words, and her restless tail sickled about at her hocks in great swashes of porcelain. “Whoever he was wouldn’t let me pass, so, da, I attacked first. What would you have me do?” The wisping curve of her neck arced, as did the adamant clench to her jaw. “What sort of mother would I be if I have nothing to treat my family with, Verx?” At the end of the day though, the little detour had been for herself.

It was a bit of selfishness that remained from all the wandering she’d done, and how slow and stagnant all the bedrest had made her feel. The herbalist languished back on her side, then, resting her weight into an elbow as she continued to meet his gaze fairly. “I had help, after that rogue ran off. Even if I did not, I would’ve been able to tend to myself well enough.” Aure glimsped from him, then, to lave her tongue down and along a faint ache in her foreleg.