King Elk Forest Wintertide Jubilee, the first.

Time did not distort her sodality with Kingslend. Nor did it weaken it. For Aéthie, it was more than the passing of a territory and recognition of a name. It was a matter of dignity- of status- and above all virtue. Obediently, she welcomed the distinguished sight of the elken forest with a ritualistic bow-her gaze outlining the thin lace of drift and decorum coating the distant grotto.
 
A joyous call interrupted the serene silence of the moment, soon followed by another. And then another. And another. Aéthie recognized many of the calls as wellborn Déorwine, her tail flicking with devoted sentiment.

Instinctively, she made her way toward the gathering- following the call most familiar- her brother.