Arrow Lake you're my guard, my guide, you're my life i confide in

Aure had stifled both her voice and that momentarily-spirited veneer. This private reclusiveness was sorely familiar to her, and yet, could be deigned as unusual by those unknown; at times, she didn't know quite what or how to feel. So she didn't. Speaking had become minimal, as was her interaction with any visitors who she deigned appropriate to, well, visit.

Whenever she left her thicket, it was only to make water or retrieve anything Mahler had promised her for the day. She'd returned to being the diligent, ever-watchful mother Diaspora had grown to see; in past few sunrises and sunsets had been spent only for her children. Today, though... today, she wished to breathe — to venture, even for a moment.

With the children being sat by Vonnaruil, the early spring afternoon found Aure departing from the iron-clad's claim. Dark lashes had kept her eyes heavy with quietude. A sort of acheless, blank bleak yawned within her, familiar and strange and reaching into each insecurity. It wasn't just the simmering embers of shame  ( which was further stoked by every little trip-up )  but it was a more general, self-critical, encompassing feeling. More mute and invasive within herself.

But, sighting an ink-shrouded male lingering Diaspora's border, the silver heaved herself from her horizonless thoughts, changed course, and began to wind her way towards him. Regardless of how it felt like a deadweight, she made her tail feather above boney hips. "Yes?" Her voice was both docile and orderly, but her eyes were precarious, private, yet not unkindly.