Hushed Willows catch the manic rhapsody

Olive had become more watchful over the sanctuary. For almost the entire first part of her tenure on Elysium’s council, she had taken somewhat of a backseat approach to leadership. Lily was their Satori anyways, and she always seemed to nurture their pack relations and host their fêtes without issue or incident — giving Olive the freedom to relish the joy of doing nothing and being lazy with her wives.

But now that there was not one, but three litters to worry about. Nine tiny, innocent lives within their folds. Now, the stakes had never been higher. 

So, the druid watched the man careful as he sauntered through the weeping woods. She attempted to be nothing more than a shadow amongst the forest, which was easy in the dying daylight. She watched him as he explored the territory, not overly alarmed because he had the scent of Lily upon him, but not interested in letting him remain unintroduced.

He entered the rose moor, and so did she. Now she made no attempt at concealing herself, twisting around the thorny bushes to come closer. “They bloom all the seasons of the year — even winter could not blight them.” the woman stated in a voice like summerwine. She came to meet the man at the side of a small pool, giving him a dip of the head and a sidelong glance. “They are a part of magic of this land.” She was certain that Lily had done a good job conveying just how special this land was, but she was the Shakti — the master of ceremony — so she must take responsibility for this specific type of education.