Commands seized the air, the wind, the light summer breeze, and she hastened to them as an eternal figure to their credence, a sweeping maiden of the mist, enlightened towards the horizon. Today’s meeting doesn’t appear to be laced and lacquered with trials and tribulations though, no slinking, slithering demons crawling along their corridors, no overturned empires reeling towards the ground, no collapse of judgment brooding and brewing within their walls. Like so many others, its business and justified, headcounts and configurations, calculations needing to be measured, weighted, lavished and polished over. The Mender and her companion, subdued by the mass (though not her curiosity, nose poised to the sky and sniffing over every scent) slid between members of her home, the pride, the bastion, the might of their foundation, and listened. Their union of armistice, of serenity, of tranquility between the Edge and their home remained poised and aloft, and a layer of confidence and assurance built within her soul, glad to have partaken in the service for her kingdom – though it seemed, not enough to warrant the Falls misgivings. She wondered, briefly, the reasons beyond the refusal (at the very least – their sovereign had never been one to assault that particular region; she remembered their nimble falls, their lush grass, pondered over how much was hidden away in that vast, wide land), but ceased the ruminations as their Lord and Lady continued. D’art was named her ally in medicine, and she smiled towards the beast in the crowd, pleased to see the good Doctor resuming his post. Roland’s name crossed through the list, and though she’d already prospered him congratulations, she did it again all the same with a foolish wink and a warm grin – even Zikar-Sin, eccentric and quirky, had found a piece of promotion within their depths. Notions about lessons remedied the Mender’s mind towards herb searching, mending, and tending; her fellow nurses and scourges were bound to grasp hold of instruction and virtue. However, the largest piece of news solidifying her interest was the GildedBlade’s announcement: a festival! Imagination, whimsy, and fancies immediately grew wild and drew blooming aspirations; conjured songs and dances, merriment and delight, kindled spirits united in the forefront of celebration and good tidings. The whirlwind of her features said it all; bright, glowing, radiant and composed, eager and ready to embark into ebullience, teaching, or any other motions stirring them towards grandeur; nymph approval.