Blackfeather Woods from a cheap and chippy chopper on a big black block

Her nostrils flared, picking up the sweet scents that layered the woman's pelt. It was quite pleasant, actually—comforting, in a way. She nodded at the query, letting her face relax into something serene, almost resembling a smile.

Everything is fine, she assured Lilah, who looked kind of worried. I came to see how you were settling into the woods. How are you?

Maegi had harbored doubts about the soft fae's place in this forest. She was a far cry from the grizzled warriors and tortured souls that usually called Blackfeather home. Lilah more belonged at Wheeling Gull Isle, with Coelacanth and her ilk. But then. . .the Melonii found it soothing, almost, to think that she might be able to fashion that kind of peace and sanctuary here. Somewhere where everyone could feel at home.

A twisted sanctuary, sure, but one nonetheless.