Hideaway Strath thirty-six flowers

The sylph smiled. "Zat is true -- ze Saints 'ave become my 'ome. 'ere I am mother an' Priestess to my people." When the silence had fallen between them, not uncomfortably, the halfling attempted to shine the spotlight upon Satsu for a moment. "Vhat do ye do -- in terms of trade?" she asked the ashen canid curiously, wispy ears tipping forward in a display of intrigue -- as if to catch any forthcoming information. 

Perhaps Satsu was drawn to herbal lore as she and Vein were. It had been sometime since she had had a colleague to speak with. Derg's disappearance meant Arlette had withdrawn from the pack's social circle somewhat, which was entirely understandable -- especially when one considered the albino's history and her earlier delivery this year. Vein too had become preoccupied, spending many of his waking hours toiling in the dirt and tending to the various mothers and wounded Saints. Or at least, that was what she presumed. And Hemlocke was a man who preferred the company of shadows and spirit-speakers, not to mention he was nowhere to be found.