Blacktail Deer Plateau she is standing right in front of me.

It was not the first time that Harlyn had suffered from her migraines, and she was quite certain that it would not be the last.  To others it might have seemed like a mere medical condition, but the druid quite firmly believed that it was a sign from the spirits - a warning of ill tidings.  Since that first ache had splintered through her skull, she had been nervous for whatever the gods had brewing for the fates of their children.  She had seen it come in torrential storms, in terrible illness and fatal accidents.  But what it had translated to this time was something she had not expected.

Harlyn had been fortunate enough to escape the fire that had ravaged part of the pack's territory without coming to any physical harm.  The fear she'd felt not knowing where Mordecai was or if he was safe was unlike any she'd ever known, but so was the pain that ravaged her head and made her incapable of actually searching for him.  In the days that followed the fire, the pain had slowly ebbed away to the dull ache that she now suffered as she stepped tenderly on the outskirts of the wreckage.  It was painful for the druid to see the earth in ruins like this, but hers was not a faith so easily shaken by tragedy.

She paused for just a moment then, looking down at the ashes beneath her paws.  With a deep breath, she sighed and shut her eyes to say a silent prayer to the gods, whispering a single phrase of comfort to herself: "Tá sé seo i gcás ina muid ag cur tús arís..."

Mamma and Pappa had not let them wander far since the fire, and it made Eilidh frantic, itching to stretch her legs. So today, when they were sure the fire was completely out, she was allowed to roam once again. Neither of her parents were very far from her, if she needed help, but the young princess decided she needed to see this for herself. So she went in the direction of the ashes, of the scent of burnt prey's flesh and charred earth, to see the destruction for herself. 

It did not disappoint.

Eilidh wandered along the edge of the ashes, admiring the beauty of the dark trunks, the scorched and fallen tree limbs. What impressed her the most, however, was not the darkness of the burned area, but the light of the wolf standing not far from her, whispering what she could only guess was a prayer, eyes closed against the acrid air. It was staring to make her eyes water. Eilidh approached the woman with a soft smile and a few words, "Hello, miss. What were you just saying?" It was with the innocent curiosity of a youth that she was able to say that with a straight and openly honest face.

Harlyn hadn't anticipated anyone coming to join her.  She assumed that most would want to steer clear from the wreckage, except for those who felt compelled to continue searching for their missing packmates in the ashes.  The small voice that interrupted her thoughts startled her, but not visibly.  Turning her head, she set her gaze upon a youthful face - pale-furred with two gems blinking at her upon it.

Harlyn smiled slowly in greeting before responding.  "It's a phrase in my family's tongue," she explained, "It means: This is where we begin again."  The druid turned to peer at the ravaged forest thoughtfully before continuing, "Sometimes the gods must tear down the world you know so that you can reach the path upon which you were meant to walk."

Eilidh didn't pretend to know everything. In fact, she was well aware of the things she did and did not know. The common tongue was easy on her lips, but others were not so well formed. Her father spoke a little of another language, and she had always wanted to learn it. "That language sounds like my Pappa's." The teenager looked from the woman to the scarred earth and mused for a long moment. Then, finally, she turned back to the woman with a smile.

"Do you know what path you're meant to walk?" Perhaps it was deeper than she realized, but in reality she was simply curious. It was a mark of her youth and optimism that she asked such questions. "I'm Eilidh, miss. What's your name?"

The girl mentioned her father, and Harlyn regarded her curiously.  She was unaware that any in the Plateau spoke in a tongue not native to the Wilds.  It seemed to her that culture and respect for ancestry were growing harder and harder to come by those days, though it did not bother her too much.  She had enough to share with everyone, and she had a future on the horizon where she would have an entire family to pass her faith onto.

Her question was a thoughtful one, though she may not have realized it.  Assuming that was the case, Harlyn gave her a soft smile, listening as she introduced herself before responding.  "Harlyn Cinderloch," she said in turn, "You have a lovely name, Eilidh."  She paused for a moment before continuing, "And to answer your previous question - Yes; I believe I do know what path I'm supposed to walk.  But sometimes the trouble is knowing when to start the journey."  Harlyn paused again, gazing quietly at the youth.  She did not look to be too young - there was at least half a year to her, perhaps a bit more.  Perhaps it was the clever look upon the girl's face, but Harlyn didn't think that this was a conversation that would be too over her head.

Eilidh was unaware that her question was quite a deep one, one that required some thought. But she was a girl used to thoughtful silence, used to entertaining herself when her brothers were nowhere to be found, and the adults didn't want to talk to a little girl about serious matters. Her Pappa usually indulged her, but she often wondered if he truly listened to what she said.

"Thank you," she said, as was proper. "Pappa says it means "light." And I like your name, too, miss." Eilidh smiled at the woman, settling herself comfortably by the ridge of fire. The ash that swirled with the breeze caught her eye, and she watched it absently as she listened to Harlyn's reply. "I don't know what path I'm supposed to walk. Not yet." She turned toward the woman, emerald gaze full of wonder. "When do you know when to start?"

Harlyn gave the girl a grateful smile when she complimented her name and explained the origins of hers.  She went on to say she didn't know what path she was meant to walk, and Harlyn was not surprised to hear it.  She was still so young.  To be having this conversation at all was beyond her years, but the druid had no problem endulging her.  One was never too young to begin examing their lives, their world, and their place within it. 

"Well, you must have faith in the gods," Harlyn explained, "They will always show you the way.  Sometimes you might not always recognize the signs they give you, and sometimes they may be silent for so long, a part of you will be tempted to wonder if they've left you entirely.  But they are always there, always watching, and always laying out your path - even when you're not quite sure you can see it yourself."

I apologize for the severe delay here. <3

The gods. Her parents hadn't really spoken of any gods, and while she kind of had an idea of what Harlyn meant simply by her tone of voice, Eilidh wasn't sure what a god was. And if she didn't know what they were, how could they show her the way? Was she being dull-witted? When Harlyn spoke of wondering if they had left her entirely, Eil nodded. "That's how I feel! I don't even know what a gods is, so..." It wasn't that she was trying to be rude or whatever; she just didn't know what Harlyn meant.

No problem!  I've raised you a nearly as long one >___>  Wanna wrap up soon? :)

The girl's response was so sweet and innocent, Harlyn could have scooped her up right then.  She resisted, knowing it probably would have been completely unwelcome.  She smiled instead, knowingly, and gave a light shake of her head.  "But you do, Eilidh," she reassured her in a comforting tone, "The gods are those that created the world that we live in.  They created all of its creatures, including you and me.  They watch over us, protect us, and guide us.  The gods are the earth, the sun, the moon, the sky.  They are the things that we need - that life needs - to exist."

Harlyn paused, knowing it might be a difficult concept for her happenstance pupil to grasp.  There was so much more the druid could tell her, but she knew well that only willing minds could be taught, and minds were often quite fickle.  Eilidh had questioned her willingly, but she could just as easily back away from the conversation if she felt too overwhelmed or confused.

Sure thing! :)

Eilidh listened as Harlyn tried to explain what the gods were. Her heart swelled a little in her chest as she looked at the burned scar of earth before her. Was this a god, too, this destruction that had nearly torn their pack apart? Eilidh couldn't grasp that this was life and happiness, what the earth wanted for them - it was pure terror. And in that vein, she wasn't sure she believed in the "gods" or even thought they existed. Maybe, deep down in her heart, she thought Harlyn was perhaps a little off her rocker.

Whatever the case may be, Eilidh's ears perked when she heard her father's summoning howl. She stood, shook out her coat, and glanced at Harlyn. "Thanks for telling me 'bout the gods, Miss Harlyn. But I gotta go now. Maybe you could teach me more later?" It was an empty suggestion, but Eilidh had always been taught to be polite.