Wapun Meadow this seat's taken

A herald rang out, and almost familiar; then lo and behold, it was the she-wolf from the borders, and the Diasporian perked up immediately at the sight of her. ”Abethfa!” Aurëwen crowed — or, tried to crow through her bouquet, entirely unawares that she still held it. ”Howf,” — snapping to, and then hastily setting her find down — ”how are you?” A flustered, faint giggle of apology colored her foreign tongue, but the ridiculous moment had already passed.

”It’s lovely out today, I think,” came the afterthought, and the once-skayona took the spring air deep within her breast, looked about the meadow all around them. Perhaps, once her children grew a bit more, she would bring them here; being cooped up in that thicket any longer wouldn’t do them good. Drago needed to smell the earth, and Isi needed to roam it.