Hushed Willows my limbs are frozen, my eyes won't close [festival]

She dipped her head in modest thanks, a little sheepish at how much another exulted at her revelation of new life — it wasn’t unwelcome, though. The responses of the kru had threaded from lukewarm, to almost-joyous, downright concerned, and even, well, disdained. Of course, the assumption was only on what she’d heard, as she wasn’t one to have sought out everyone on the cliffs to bear the news of, well, bearing.

”Yes, yes — ze ways things are upon ze cliffs are a concern, but... happiness is still there. It must be... because there is syrup to be had,” her voice was resolute, despite her little lame jest at the shared memory of theirs. Perhaps a little wan, so unused to night-worn celebration. But her smile returned, if only a little fainter, ”I am... happy. Happy, in ze way I never thought I would be for so long.”

Aure let her gaze list once again, remembering Eastwood’s words from so long ago, ”I know that one shouldn’t become too comfortable, within this world, this life. I should know better. All ze same, I... is comfort too much to ask for?” She stepped nearer to Sanguinis, brushing a tendered flank along his own as she beckoned him to promenade with her. ”You told me you were — are — a champion. Have you fought ze moment you were able to learn?”