They were like a brilliant, beautiful mooring; security and anchors for the future, fledglings for the ice and snow. Had she been able to properly convey her gratitude, her sentiments, for the creatures before her, she would have likely prostrated at their feet, delighted at their existence, at their aptitude, at their willingness to walk the same lines and pathways as she, embark and heal and nurture the melancholies, the woes, of the inevitable. Her heart stoked beats and harmonies of absolute rhapsody, of generosity she hadn’t seen or felt in some time, and she fought against the urge to wrap them all in a warm embrace, to promise them endless bounties of joy and ebullience; instead, she chose to cherish them with her constant, overflowing essence of beneficence and compassion, leaning into the furtive fold of healers and menders, of the divine, of the virtuous, of those who gave everything and expected nothing in return. “A pleasure, Enna!” Her bright chirp cast into frozen spheres and bobbed like a blessing; courting, inviting, tempting in its beholden graces, ears flicking back and forth as each lady in turn gave over their thoughts, their wishes. The Songbird aspired to grant them anything they yearned for or craved, eager and fervent to give into the rites and rituals of their ranks, to collect information, wisdom, and sagacity for the impending whims of their fellow comrades, and her brow furrowed for a few snippets at Enna’s query, for it was a line of mystery she’d yet to cross. Her eyes sparked towards an open area near the hot springs, and though currently covered in snow, it was wide and vast, situated and tucked between caverns and eaves; perhaps with enough protection to withstand the might, squall, and subterfuge of the Basin’s terrain. While the task may have seemed daunting, Lena was far from losing her hope and spirit over the project, unrelenting and goaded by pure boldness and fortitude, melding her lips together in a touch of serene, tranquil thoughts, before gliding her eyes back towards the silver femme. “For the most part, we’ll require glass. I’m hoping at Frostfall’s end we may journey to the World’s Edge, where they have crafters capable of making such materials. Perhaps we could negotiate a trade between our herds for what we need.” After all, they’d been allied, they’d been forged amidst a recent war, and some, she’d noted at her latest stay amidst the cliffs and the sea, had stayed and strayed, familiar and whole (her thoughts blistered to Mauja, to Kahlua, to a world of friends and companions just over the horizon). Her eyes flicked back to each again, wholesome and genuine. “And if not, we’ll come up with an alternative plan.” She winked thereafter, then paced against the snow, digging along a dip of ice and rime below her feet, grinning in impish delight. “For now, maybe you’d indulge me in some exploring? There must be some herbs evading winter’s touch.” The smile blossomed and bloomed into a smirk, beguiling and entrancing. “We just have to find them!”


[@[Renegade] @[Enna]
I can make a new thread in an open land somewhere and we can gather some herbs? ;D]