Lost Creek Hollow unicorn tapestries

She remained blissfully and wholly unaware of any sort of drama occurring in Riverclan. She knew not of the pregnant woman’s journey to gather her husband and bring him home, she knew not of Crowfeather and Silvertongue and the new scent she caught occasionally.

Faun, as it stood, was rather unaware of everything that wasn’t bustling to and fro with herbs in her mouth and dirt staining her paws. Spring had appeared in a rush, she could feel the change just as well as she could feel anything, and the herbalist bustled to restore her stores with anything she could find.

Especially with a pregnant packmate. It was essential.

Today, she was doing exactly that. Digging through the snow to unearth an old cache she had created, wondering to herself if any of her dried herbs inside were of use.

If you don’t mind this being loosely recent I can snag this one too!  Also feel free to ignore her if you like

A pack that lay near the sun touched mountains.  She watched it with interest for a time before approaching and making her presence known with a cursory call.  She did not wish to hold them for long, but would speak of the surrounding areas and the mountains themselves.  Perhaps some wisdom could be gained from these native (yet to be enlightened) inhabitants.

She waited patiently without intruding, only the switching of her tail betraying her desire to press onward.

She paused.

A call!

She rang a quick note in the air for @Crowfeather or @Silvertongue to assist, as she was no diplomat! Then, the deer like girl stood from her digging and began towards the borders, forgetting to wash her dirty paws as she did.

Greetings! She called when she found the figure on the borders, pausing for a moment to take her in. She was..very pretty. Faun swallowed.

Oh dear.

sorry this took a while! We can keep it short if you like

Flecha raised a brow slightly at the wolf who came to attend at the border, but she kept her thoughts to herself for now.  Her god would not be served by enemies.  Yet this was no warrior who watched their claim’s flanks.

She had delivered no threat in her call - perhaps they had taken her at her word. It would be safer to assume them naive than no threat whatsoever.  She noted this.

I am Flecha, Holcan to the Ajaw.  I wish to know about your claim and the ones that lead you.  She stated, dipping her head slightly in a formal manner, yet never taking her eyes from the woman.  She would give respect, but her deference belong to one only.