Sunbeam Lair iii. protect yourself for none else shall
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All Welcome 
The clearing offers only so much, within days she grows wearied of recuperation - restless, listless. Onward, she must press but to where? 

The vast range bordering her west beckons - she will return for the taigas and tundras someday she vows - and logic hales that she cut through the heart of the monts rather than tread around it. She skirts only the Lakes of Diaspora, of Aurë's people, before scaling the heights.

In truth, there was no mountaineering of the sorts - a narrow crack in the foot of the shale, half hidden by the gravel of an old rock slide drew her into the extensive passageways of Sunbeam Lair. 

Wind through the underbelly of Sunspire the hart would, guided by the occasional beam of light peering bashfully through split seams overhead. 

Emerging in the great stronghold of an otherworldly cavern, Rhælla would materialize from the pits of the mausoleum's shadows - pittering by softly, singular orb awe-struck as it caressed the unusual foliage tenderly.
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she has not sought advice concerning her pregnancy, and so it is easy to ignore the painful spasms, to continue living as she used to without pausing to consider them. it is what she does that day, leaving for the first time in a fortnight the creek and journeying towards the mountains. they are familar, and comforting, and so she slips into the lair in the hopes of finding some quarry there. 

it is not some meal she finds, but a woman, almost eerie in her countenance and seemingly pulling away from the shadows as if made from them. dawn pauses, ears perked in her direction and gaze on her, and offers a chuff in greeting. she seeks to test the response of the stranger before proceeding any nearer. she knows some would rather simply pass by, intersect briefly and draw apart once more.
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shadow eclipsed a portion of light, sent it flickering and shifting along the floor - drawing the tilted one-eyed gaze of the corvid alertly; one learned to pay close attention to such detail when half-blinded. 

Lilac lighted upon copper, gaze roaming quickly over a pelt of storm and a raze of flames without judgement - who was she to judge, with such an unbecoming hole in her head? 

A small smile was offered, a stately bow of her nite crown. "Greetings," she purled welcomingly to the stormborn, "I'm Rhælla." A gentle swish took hold of her tail, at ease in the company of another woman - and a seemingly friendly one to boot.
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a single eye peers back at her, and she is reminded suddenly of her father, having seen no other with his injuries. unconsciously, the similarity has her somewhat more trusting of the stranger already, and her own tail wafts at her hocks. "I'm Dawn," she offers easily in return, taking a step nearer the woman to a more comfortable distance. 

they seem almost opposites - she, pale and heavy with pups, and Rhaella, sylph-like and wrapped around in jeweled night. something about her seemed foreign, ethereal, her scent one of a wanderer and so, "are you new to the wilds?" what she really wanted to know was what she was doing here, how such a sylph-like woman had attained such a terrible wound, and just where she came from. but she was not tactless, nor nosey, and so settled on the simple question for the time being.
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The morning dove draws near and the disgraced Duchess restrains exuberance, smothers the urge to react with untethered excitement; she has been so very lonely

"A pleasure," she trills gently, truthfully with a kindly grin aimed at the mother to-be. "And blessings to you," she adds, noting the swell of life upon closer inspection - the notion of children one Rhælla could only receive with joy. 

"That I am," she agrees, chipper, detecting the perfume of a congregation upon Dawn's own pelt she asks: "You are a resident here, yes?"
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she dips her head in silent thanks, though does not dwell on her pregnancy. it already impedes her, and she does not want it to define her, too. she's grateful all the same for the woman's kindness. "yes," she replies then, "since birth." she knows these lands better than most, or so she assumes, and so offers, "is there someplace - someone - you are looking for? perhaps I could help." it's a chance to be useful, and she has not had many of those since her stomach grew too large to allow her to hunt successfully, much of the time.
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"Oh," she answers, though it sounds more like wow. She's yet to have met any local residents, let alone someone who had resided here since birth - a legacy of the land itself. "What are these lands called?" She inquired curiously, having yet to receive a name for Teekon. 

"No, I thank you though, that's very kind," she smiled gratefully. "I am but a wanderess here, seeking my fate." 
"Even princesses and she-wolves bleed."
"Common." "Lirean."
ARISTOS
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"Teekon," she answers easily, able to forget the burdens she carries now and focus on the easy conversation with the woman. she's always been drawn to wanders and wandering, and seeks both to gain knowledge of the unknown and share her own, should it help this woman find her way a little easier. they converse a while still before a sharp cramp pulls the huntress back to the reality of the situation, and she offers her farewells before slipping off to return to the creek.