Wapun Meadow i. a vagrant you shall become

Myriad of memory had greeted her this night, and sleep became more figment than anything, and so Aurëwen brushed kisses to her children’s brows and eventually parted from the district of Diaspora. All at once she felt so slumberous, listless, and inconceivably awareof everything all about her. Her own stept was a shamble at its peak, and her petite-pale figure waded through the meadow’s unconquerable flora.

”Man hlaruva rávëa súrë, ve tauri lillassië?” The studious verses are for the heavens above, those that had guided her here and into all she now strode from.As she pierces deeper north, Aure goes in search of a good roost to observe the uncharted places of the sky. 

”Nninqui carcar yarra,” This rapt determination, and the quiet hum of frogsong filling her ears, draws Aure close to the she-rogue without even noticing until, of course, it is impossible not to. ”Isilmë ilcalassë—“

The rustle and sigh drew her from her hazy, moseying mind, and her coltish legs drew her still towards the origin of that sound. It wasn’t long before she was crescenting over a she-wolf, all worn and seemingly wearied away.

Silvered brows knit together, tail beginning to feather with a bit of fretting, Aurëwen gave a soft, hesitant chirrup to coax the fallen to further wakefulness.