Wheeling Gull Isle xvii. a girl with ache in her eyes and plucked skin

A grin lit upon her lips, damp plume swaying at her hocks - pleased she'd helped him select a trade. "Aristos could use a Historian - someone to help teach any little ones the pack has come spring," she teased gently, though there was a note of excitement buried in her tones; the Lady awaited the day their pack was established, with children running about. Perhaps some would even be her own - a thought that set her heart to humming. 

"As a girl my greatest passions were assisting the healers and tending the gardens. I'd like to return to that - become a Caregiver and manage the growth of medicinal herbs," the Seelie divested shyly, unused to speaking of herself. 

"But one thing I was not allowed to be was a warrior," her gaze slid away, lips tilting into a grimace. 

"I would like to remedy that," she shared as amethyst slid back over to the leucistic Chronicler, a conspiratorial smirk erasing her previous embarrassment. 

"Maybe it's a bit conflicting," the Lirean chuckled, "but I think it could balance me - destruction and restoration."