Hideaway Strath i watched the work of my kin, bold and boyful

The Saluki felt guilt needle at her heart with piercing puncture wounds, ashamed that she could have so callously reminded him of the home and family he had lost in his war against the two-legs. It had not been her intention to remind the shaman of his mother but she was all the more appreciative for Vein's skills knowing what exactly it had cost him to gain such knowledge. It made it all the more precious in her opinion, making her even more determined to commit everything the medicine man knew to memory. For now, she tried to soothe the sting of his past without disturbing the burning powder he'd so meticulously poured into her gashes and cuts -- reaching to touch her raspberry nose to his ankle, breathing in the soft, green scent of the comfrey draped over his pale paws. "I am sure yer mother vould be proud of ze 'ealer ye 'ave become, of ze vork ye 'ave done."

It was her turn to share, it seemed, the silence lengthening between them as Vein took to working the comfrey into a paste with his jaws. Her starshine orbs trailed out to the pool of sapphire water, the surface catching the early rays of the sun that had followed the dawn of Whrist's attack as they trickled into the caves -- which seemed ages ago, even now as she rested with Vein tending to her injuries. "Aye, I vas," the once-druid agreed softly. She had been many things, long ago. "I vas trained by an older voman, a cutvife. 'er magic vas in ze creation of babes, she vas renowned fer 'elping even barren vomen -- or those who could only give life to twisted pups, or stillborns -- birth 'ealthy litters full of children." 

"She took pity on me. I think she knew zat it killed me to vork as an infiltrator. I vas nae made to be a mindless soldier, killing innocent vomen and children vithout a thought," the sylph soughed, the words a haunted rasp by their culmination. Before she can turn to Vein and read his face for any shock or disgust at this revelation, it's not everyday that you find out your girlfriend is a former assassin after all, Nyra strides onto the scene and draws her gaze with alert curiosity. 

"Ah," Aerin shrinks slightly beneath the ire in the woman's dominant posturing, even if it's not meant for her. Her cottony ears pin to her skull, throat bobbing in a silent gulp as she glanced towards Vein momentarily for guidance. "Vhrist," the whisper of damnation comes only seconds later, the timid halfbreed far too submissive to hold out for long.