Blackfeather Woods every single night, i endure the flight

There she was.

On the banks of the creek that had seen far better days, destroyed by the earth's awakening. But it was not the state of the lands that captured her attention so whole. It was her trusted tattered smokey dove. Oh if she had thought Nona to be a tattered dove before how the world had decided to prove her thoughts!

Any other time she would have whispered the woman's title, uttered it to bring forth her attention but the tightening in her chest would not let her. She stared from the shadows for a heart beat or two before it spilled from her like a sad bird's call. Maegi... How she wished the name would patch the rough woman back up, fix the injuries and fill her belly. Never once had the Morta been so desperate to fix the things around her. The wounds of the earth, the wounds of her family (for were the members of Blackfeather not her family?) and the wounds inside of herself. Come. She whispered so gently as if it might further shatter the lands and the woman. Although despite her own single summoning, it was her that moved to close distance between them as she sought to embrace the Nona. It was a fruitless endeavor but she wondered, if her words could not heal, if her touch might.