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

Rajhan must have trained her well, in the life where she was Hui; neither Grandmaster nor his disciple seem to have noticed her presence. The once-spy remains hunkered in the cold of the drifts beneath her for a few moments longer, listening raptly as Vein spoke, a sudden understanding dawning on her as he uttered reverent words of gods and offerings -- reminding her of a life she wanted desperately to leave behind, when she was Awen of the Fen. But these were like no gods her gentle, peace-keeping druids had spoken of. 

After a time, the ghost straightened -- small head peeping up over the brown stalks, wispy auds caught by the wind as they cupped in Vein's direction. Her moonstones lifted to Kynareth's face for a moment and she flashed him a quick, impish grin before drifting toward the makeshift altar and the duo of giants before her, scraggly underbrush catching at her ivory strands as she emerged from her hiding spot. Her ears flattened slightly as she circled around to Vein's side, head lowering instinctively as if abashed at eavesdropping. Her thin tail smacked against the ground conciliatingly twice as she sat next to the bloodstained shaman, frowning fretfully as she peered up at the ruby staining his chin. "Ye are 'urt," the Saluki remarked softly. 

Her movements suggested timorousness as she reached up briefly to lap at the wound with the meticulous method of a healer in spite of Kyn's presence, which made her somewhat shy of such a move even if it was meant purely to staunch the bloodflow of Vein's wound. This was only if the Underling allowed her to do so, of course -- perhaps there was some aspect of the ritual that made Vein's blood sacred too, and she might offend him for doing so. If stopped, the halfling would merely bump her pale crown against the man's shoulder in apology before settling back into her original spot. 

"Vhat vill ye do vith ze fawn?" The midwife questioned of him then, head cocking curiously as the unreadable gleam of her dagger-steel gaze raised to his own citrine eyes searchingly.