Whitefish River if the men find out we can shapeshift, they’re going to tell the church

mallaidh's voice was soothingly familiar as it rang through the air and saarthal, who'd been brooding by the river side - a distance away from their de facto leader- a habit obtained from recent days, gazed upwards with cloudy eyes. it took a moment for the sound to register but when it finally wormed its way into her mind, saarth leapt up to her paws, took one last look around as if to see if anyone was following her and with a flick of her ear, began jogging to where mallaidh was.

it didn't take long for saarthal to arrive and by then, the fog cleared from the quiet fire of her gaze. "mallaidh!" the yearling called, her mouth quirking into a easy grin as she closed the distance between them. she aimed a kiss for mallaidh's cheek with a breathless "hey" as was customary for her to those who'd luckily, or perhaps not so, gained saarthal's affection, sliding perhaps too easily into the other's personal space. she was just...glad to see her. vari's absence had taken the most toll on mallaidh, after all.