Sun Mote Copse kyrie, fons bonitatis

The woman was all warmth and comfort, her accented voice reminded her of distant dunes under an unrelenting sun. Home. The word was a note plucked in her chest. Home was all she sought, it was her heart's desire. "I... I do," Ragna admitted. Perhaps she could settle here, at least for a time. The red woman came closer, and Ragna saw now that her fur was brushed through with darker colors that made her red all the richer. And her eyes, a piercing green like spring grass, had a depth and beauty to them that Ragna had not noticed from a distance.