sorbet.

Orlaith was generally having a laxed day compared to the disarray events she had for past few days. Generally now she was associating herself with her favorite past-time, a sweet, secret nectar she refused to share about. It was a newfound love upon the season, and something she never found in the previous court. While diving into her past time pleasure, the thoughts of the Honeyed Sabers drifted to, and the idea to be shared another day.

It was supposed to be peaceful- but the flaming wolf can smell someone that neither was The Saints, nor' was it a fairy. Skulking through the land, a cautious movement toward. A feirce wrath playing on her face, now smelling the foe within the willows. With a dash toward, she called out, "Halt!" Orlaith bellowed with a snarl, "you are tresspassing claimed land, state yourself!"