Arrow Lake first sight, she made me look twice,

If it hadn’t been for the drawl that pinched her awake, Aure would’ve most certainly slept at the edges of the lake — and probably would’ve toppled right on in. Her fur ruffled with a start, tail a pale sickle over boney hips, but the herbalist relaxed the moment she saw the source of her alarm: Kazimir, the burly she-wolf who’d been one of the first to accept the cliff-cadre into Diaspora.

The accent that rolled from this sensible Tessarius’ throat could’ve been called a heavier, headier version of Aure’s own foreign trill; regardless, though, Kazimir looked and sounded just as reasonable as she had the day the far-seer had been initiated.

Now, though, she was being offered a catch; usually one to decline such profferings out of politeness, the silver thanked her sleepily, and knelt to nibble from one of the hare’s haunches. It wasn’t long until Aure withdrew — leaving some for Kazimir, after all — and regarded the hefty female before her with tired, kindly eyes. “Thank you, Kazimir. You are very considerate.”