Wapun Meadow i heard a call in my sleep again

the wapun meadow was a bright shock of color: candy apple red, jade green, sunflower yellow, blood orange, pale candyfloss blue, taffy pink and clean linen white as the flowers of meadow all swayed in the gentle, if not muggy breeze that was carried thru the territory. praimfaya admires it from an artisans view though her artistic medium had been with blood and death. barbaric, she's been told and knows but it is their way. jus drein jus daun. blood must have blood. it was hard to shake what is the core of her life, the center of how blodreina chose to raise her.

still, trying to find pri hiding somewhere deep within the armor of the commander of death was proving to be far from easy.

praimfaya enjoys the colors, the fragrant floral perfume that hangs in the air: not heavy thanks to the warm breeze. pollen smudges along her legs as she pirouettes thru the flowers, trying ( and not entirely succeeding ) not to trample them. okay, she amends as she peers behind herself as drooping stems and crushed petals ...trying not to crush so many. still, it is hard. if there were clearer paths thru the meadow taken by herding animals or other predators they were left to be retaken by the wilds.

frostbound gaze examines a honeybee as it buzzes dutifully past her snout to land in a flower to her left. she lets out a small snort and keeps walking, steps faltering only at the sight of a figure up ahead. the berkana studies the figure from afar for a few moments before letting out a chuff to, hopefully, garner their attention.