Hideaway Strath moonlight casted upon sinner's skin

The raven seemed suspicious, but then so had Simmik. Perhaps it just came with the territory; maybe in time, as she immersed in the Saints more and lay down deeper roots, the irisvar too would grow a protective exoskeleton. For now, she dipped her snow-blanketed head in patience and wisped: "Yes. I tend to ze mothers an' their younglings." 

Then the dove sat as Whrist did, blinking calm silver coins through the dim light and the veil of fog towards the shadow -- her butterfly auds rising to full mast as she gave the Specialist her undivided attention. Though her ears fluttered at certain breaks, Aerin withheld from interrupting until Whrist had finished speaking. 

"I'm afraid I donnae know zis Sasha," she imparted upon the darkling with a vague shrug of her frail shoulders. "But I 'ave met Simmik, she is Ky's vife. I donnae know her vell just yet but she seems alright..." Aerin trailed off somewhat warily as her starshine gaze took on a guarded patina, noting the venomous tone and wondering. 

"Do ye mind if I ask vhy?"