sorbet.

She had not gone far after meeting Lumiya, just to the nearby maple wood, and picked her way westward with a full belly. Stryx did not know where the woman made camp with her people but she had an inkling; they had smelled of flowers, with a reedy, windswept quality she had not noticed anywhere in the mountains.

Lumiya had mentioned the willows when they had talked, and gave Stryx a vague direction to heed. Using these clues Stryx navigated her way along — passing over a narrow ridge swarming with red-leafed trees, down through a gully of stone, and then out, to an expanse of stonework which carried on towards a copse of willow trees. There was wolf scent all over the place and chief among those marks, Lumiya's.

Stryx boldly moved beyond the marks; she had only met the woman once and did not carry the same scents as those loyal to her, and really she should have waited and observed the area for a bit before taking this plunge, but she was not used to policing her behaviour. Her desire to find a nice place to nap overrode any concerns.

Orlaith was generally having a laxed day compared to the disarray events she had for past few days. Generally now she was associating herself with her favorite past-time, a sweet, secret nectar she refused to share about. It was a newfound love upon the season, and something she never found in the previous court. While diving into her past time pleasure, the thoughts of the Honeyed Sabers drifted to, and the idea to be shared another day.

It was supposed to be peaceful- but the flaming wolf can smell someone that neither was The Saints, nor' was it a fairy. Skulking through the land, a cautious movement toward. A feirce wrath playing on her face, now smelling the foe within the willows. With a dash toward, she called out, "Halt!" Orlaith bellowed with a snarl, "you are tresspassing claimed land, state yourself!"

It was pleasant here. Nothing smelled old, which is a weird thing to make note of, but as someone who has either a) spent her time in (essentially) a nunnery surrounded by cranky old people or b) shoulder-deep in bloody woundscapes, it was a nice change. The willows looked healthy despite the summer heat which choked out all other forms of life; there were patches of reeds starting to wither and curl at the base of the same trees, and she could spy a few clusters of gorse densely woven across the stone abuttment she stood upon.

The boughs swayed in the breeze. The birds sang in the trees. There was a distant idle drone of bugs or frogs or something she could not immediately recognize, lending a hum. And then everything shattered.

A booming voice announced the presence of another wolf, which should not have startled Stryx, but it did. She spun to face the stranger while her perpetually too-thin coat bristled. The stranger looked quite intimidating from their sheer size to their snarling voice, with even their coat emblazoned in garish shades of autumn bright enough to stand out against thin white trees.

Unsure of what to do, the physician did what came naturally and blurted her purpose: I am Stryx of the Shydawn Basin, practicing physician of the Asklepeian Order, she was forgetting the most important part and tacked it on for good measure after a decidedly obvious pause, and pledge to Lumiya of the Willows.

"Oh." Upon hearing more, she settled to a more ease, however continued a towering posture and pride breathing through her every joint. A few days ago she had a brief meeting with the Queen upon someone visiting the realm, but since the wolf in particular hadn't appeared in a few days, Orlaith simply had forgotten.

"My bad," and the fae apologized awkwardly to her rather flaming approach, "Lumiya mentioned you a while ago. We're on high alert over The Saints, at the moment." Explaining herself as well. It was only a brief meeting about the wolf, coming in as a pledge and apparent doctor. They only had Deidre, which while nice, could always use more doctors. Though in all honestly would've rather had more warriors, but whatever!

"I'm Orlaith, guard of Seelie Court." And with introduction, came her arrogant grin.

The flame was quieted but not extinguished once Stryx identified herself, as the stranger recognized some part of her. Perhaps Lumiya had mentioned her recruitment to those of her inner circle. Warriors did not often frighten Stryx despite how obviously fit they tended to be, with the physician being a smaller, thinner, wiry creature by comparison. Having someone shout at her had startled her but now that the situation was remedied she relaxed somewhat.

I'm Orlaith, guard of Seelie Court. The burly wolf remarked, still alert—or perhaps that was not interest, but a focused sort of superiority. The only other person to don that expression was Donovan. They were very alike at first glance.

It made sense that these wolves would be nervous of the Saints. Even with her repeated dealings with them Stryx had yet to feel comfortable on their land, nor within close proximity to their leader. She was suddenly thankful for their accord.

How many incidents have there been? She asked. While it didn't really interest her that much, Stryx knew by now that letting warriors talk of their latest exploits was the best way to appease them. Have you fought any of them yet? Probably not, Stryx presumed; they seemed so confident in the moment, and their body - after a cursory glance - did not look weathered or damaged to any great extent, which had Stryx doubtful.

"Here? Around two." She knew there was other situations pertaining toward them, however they were not by the court members in particular, more of their allies, "both which I was involved. Minor fights- one whom left mid fight, and the other tresspassed, so the whole pack had manged them." Orlaith had a rather satisfactory grin upon the second term, at peace he wasn't able to flee without a few major injuries prolonging on his pelt. 

Wonder where that bastard went?

Also wondered where the first bastard went.

She really didn't like them.

"You know of The Saints?" The guard asked, questioning the physician.

It sounded like the Saints had been harassing these people for a while, but that didn't make sense to Stryx as she'd only been in the ravenswood a fortnight ago; had they truly migrated in to the mountains and caused a fuss in that short a time? Donovan clearly didn't waste a moment.

Hearing of the various instances of violence turned Stryx' interested, engaged expression in to something dull; she wasn't impressed by physical feats, mostly because she could only consider the wounds involved. How much blood had been shed. How many bite wounds would need tending. If the Willow wolves had set themselves upon a single entity then that entity was hurting, probably badly.

Maybe she'd go out and try to find them. Her work was never done.

You know of the Saints? The warrior prompted, to which Stryx absentmindedly nodded.

I first had contact with them after treating someone who got too close. Nearly lost her actually, her throat was shredded. She had to remind herself that Praimfaya had made it home to her mountain; her facial scars made her look distinguished, at least. I met their leader a couple of times after that. It was surprising to find him in the mountains.

Orlaith had very limited information, she only knew they caused trouble along the coast, but didn't know the specifics. The Queen warned her to be wary of them, and so she did upon meeting Derg, and immedietly battled the foe. Then the streak continued, upon meeting Riley. Lumiya however, wary they'll cause more trouble, moved to warn the allies of their new location.

She did not know they attacked a woman, "Savages," the guard snarled in disdain, "they've been causing trouble on the coast, and now moved to their issues to the mountain." She could never understand their thought process, as instead of moving away, they dwelved even deeper into enemy territory. Orlaith found it a mockery.

Savages.

The word hung in the air for the fraction of a moment, and all Stryx thought initially was, 'You're not wrong.' But she could not entirely disavow Donovan of his choices either. He did what came naturally. There were many wolves on the surface of this earth who would sooner tear your throat out so much as look at you, and at least he had convinced himself with a good reason.

One could argue that it is noble to defend the lives of your allies; but then, it was ultimately his own ego which put them in harm's way to begin with. Savage, yes. Not in any new or otherworldly manner though - he was so utterly basic with his preaching for violence and acceptance of it, that Stryx would wonder often about his mental health. Those living for death would inevitably die to their own measures.

I do worry. He has followers, and should he solidify his hold of the canyon, then nobody will be safe. She would not mention how easily she could keep up her vows if such a thing were to happen - it sounded disingenuous within her own mind. To make up for the pledge to Lumiya she would be working doubly hard.

Orlaith had to shake her head at the thought, "A shame. I met one who was a good warrior, but he is following a barbarian." She left the bit out where the flaming warrior straight up attacked him due to the alignment, but she still found it regretful. If only he wasn't the enemy, she would've recruited him so, and especially enjoy his company. There wasn't too many warriors in the willows, after all.

"They didn't play nice at the coast, I doubt they will here."

Her gaze ventured toward where the sea lies when thinking about Ying. Though she then saw something that caught her eye, somewhat red and small. Not a pup, nor' one of their own, but the inkling to what seemed like a fox. Orlaith looked at Stryx, "I'm going to head out, it was nice meeting you."

She left to investigate.