Hideaway Strath Boys are like trees, they take 50 years to grow up

I couldn't resist...this could just be a cameo if you were wanting just a one-on-one with Kynareth though. Or just lmk if you would prefer I delete this.

The once-druid had been toiling in the woods nearby, unwittingly close to the spiritualist's temple fashioned of macabre intentions, searching for a clearing that might be suitable for a garden once the weather warmed permanently. At first, there hadn't been much to hear over the soft hum of the forest -- birds chirping, a woodpecker tapping away at a tree, a buck lowing somewhere far in the distance -- but she must have been closer than either of them realized for she heard distinctly the odd little strangled noise that would be the hare's last utterance. It was misplaced enough to concern her, wispy auds perking alertly as she followed the noise -- glimpsing red and white through the thinning foliage as her heart suddenly grew heavy with a nauseating foreboding. 

The deep, reverent timbres of Vein's howl rent the air as Aerin peeked through the cover of browned undergrowth -- silver eyes wide with horror and dark fascination. What could he possibly be doing -- was this one of his strange healing methods, like the tea? 

Something in her wanted to step forward, to ask him her questions again and puzzle out exactly what was going on. But the other part, the predominant part, kept her hunkered in the snow -- a little scared to see her newfound friend like this, ritualistically slathered in the lifeblood of an innocent creature.