Wheeling Gull Isle To the strand a picnic plan for you and me

Again that sadness tugged at her heart, thinking of him young and lost and thrust into bloodshed. "Mayhaps you'll learn each other once more, it's never too late to reconcile," she murmured hopefully, truthful in her wish that he have someone of familial blood, kin, to lean upon. 

"I had the same thought - it seems like the only way to accomplish it," she agreed, having come up short with any other way of transportation. "I thought we might try fashioning... iēdar issi?" She transitioned falteringly to her mother tongue, uncertain of the proper translation. "Something to pile the meat upon and push over water or drag over the bridge."

"That's not a bad idea," she pondered with a grin. "My Muñnykeā spoke of ravens carrying messages in her homeland - corvids of clipped tongue who'd been taught to speak." 

Her nose crinkled slightly at the thought of harming an innocent creature needlessly yet the youthful leader could see the benefits in it.