Emberflame Ridge in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me

✹☾❂

 

Eleuthera did just as she promised Orlaith — she often scouted the surrounding territories, the ridges and flatlands that laid just beyond the mouth of the willows, looking for anything, anyone or any creature that might try to infiltrate their safe haven. Eleuthera didn’t know what she was looking for, if anything, but she figured when she saw something that she deemed a reasonable threat, she would know it in her gut. So she followed her whim and intuition, zigging and zagging all over the place and unafraid to cover her own path more than once. 

She had never been much of a guard; as a nomad, there were few things to guard except for her own body and soul and that of Séamus; but she felt called to do something different than in the past, lest she be doomed to repeat it — or for the hushed willows to repeat it. She didn’t know if she considered the Faeries family, but she’d hate to lose them all the same.

Eleuthera had come upon the promontory to the south, knowing now that there were cougars about — not dangerous ones, it seemed, but interloping felines all the same. Eleuthera placed her liver-nose against the earth and drew in deep. She did her best to scry any catsmell from the sodden earth, but she scented none. Nothing here except the fertile soil and the worms that danced beneath it. Content, Eleuthera moved on between the underbrush, moving in whichever direction her feet bade.

@Revui