Arrow Lake clanging shields, companions tramping, bronze prows, men in bronze,

omg thats exactly the weather is here tonight i Hate It

Whether Ingram’d been initiated into the Diasporian fold or not probably will be tbh Aurëwen had taken it upon herself to lightly scour the borders, a reprieve following her own water breaks. It’d... been the first time she’s ever recruited someone, actually; even though Mahler had been the final verdict, it was she who’d brought notice to it. Should she feel proud, or indifferent? Both? Hm.

Aure wondered what the cliff-kru and herself had looked like upon the borders, themselves. Wondered how wan and desolate they must’ve seemed and had definitely felt. Wondered why this humid, taunting weather wouldn’t make up its goddamned mind. It really wasn’t that deep — either be sunny, or rainy, and let those on the world move on in peace.

By the time she sighted Blodreina, her mood had soured just as much as the wanlinda’s had; there was a pout to her stubborn jaw; an irritable furrow to her scarred brow. Anyone back at the encampment would know the she-wolves were waddling about, so there was no need to fret at anything but the rain. “Reina,” came the meager, grumpy greeting. “...I miss winter, now.”