08-06-2019, 04:52 PM
[div style="width: 430px; line-height: 1.4; text-align: justify; font-family: palatino; font-size: 11px;"][align=center]— s͢uv̷i͡ ̷k̛iir͜a ó f͞a҉olá҉in | t̢àn̢glewo̧o̷̢d̷͢ | sawbone —
The petite vixen felt hopeful enough about Embry she didn't flee the second he asked her to gather herbs with him. Vaguely, she remembers Gael suggesting she work for the other fox, but she feels inclined to ignore the recollection. Instead, she quietly trots at the other vulpine's side, wondering if he may have something new to teach her on healing if she asked, but finding him somewhat unapproachable.He didn't seem happy with this at all. Biting the inside of her cheek, she mimicked his quiet attitude, unmatched hues dancing around for signs of growing plants. The fire took out quite a bit she realized with a frown. The idea the Typhoon and Tanglewood chose to burn everything before trying to rescue her made her stomach tighten into a knot. Surely, they had some other plan.
Her attention snaps back to Embry sharply, almost missing his silent command. The second she registered the smell herself, she brightened. Salt. The Typhoon. Da. The youth practically ran on the older medic's heels, skidding to a stop when he did. A whine of protest built in her throat when he held up a paw. The memory of lightning flashes behind her eyes, halting her for a second.
Her flank still hurt from the burn, though she'd treated it soon as she could. He wouldn't attack her with her family so close though, would he? No. He can't. A naïve decision perhaps, but her paw's tingled with the desperation to race to her father and uncle. She barely noticed Gael, nor the little fox that must be his daughter, locked behind Raziel safely.
No. Words were being traded. Gaelic. Her family's native tongue. They floated through one ear and out the other. She only had eyes for the dire wolf waiting by the water. He came. Just like she kept telling herself.
Finally, frustrated with Embry holding her back and the concept of waiting now she moved. She moved the way she did unintentionally, de-materializing from one location and rematerializing in another, practically barreling into her father and barely missing Aine. The latter of the two would take the opportunity to attempt slipping by the wolf, happily returning to Gael, albeit with a bemused expression on her face.
She lacked words, or cared to try. She wanted to go home. She missed her father, burying her face in his fur with watering eyes.
— T͏O̴G͠ETH͏ER̕ ÁT̴ ̸T̕H̶E ST͏ART̶ O͏F̀ ̵TI̡M͏E —