Ask no questions, and you'll be told no lies

The memory of cleaning up bones doesn’t haunt her. It never will. Things die, shit happens, move on. She cared more about what Kaos had planned for their future than what she’d done in the past to unknowingly aid a monster. Though at the time, she was so new to Helovia, she might have aided him willingly. The promise of power would have been enough to tempt her then, though not now. Know she has a home, a place that feels like hers the way the Chamber had felt like her mother’s. And she served to protect it, to throw herself in front of those who could die. Because she couldn’t. Because she wasn’t limited to one or nine or even one hundred lives. She was limited only by time, and she had plenty of that left.

She heads out today because she can. Because she’s not fighting for a hot second and her wings could use a stretch and her muscles a new place to train. So she heads to the beach, thinking sea and sand might make for a good place to run and fly and generally just kill some time. It’s hot, but there’s an ocean there, so she can cool herself off easily enough. Raven flies above her, finally grown enough to stop hitching a ride everywhere. He prefers the sky, finally, too. It gives him a better sightline to possible shiny things.  

Raven has taken to collecting. There’s a mass of stuff in his nest back in the Basin, and occasionally he dumps something out onto Weaver’s head, having found a new and better thing to replace the old one with. Today she figures he’s going home with a pile of shells, though she does not plan to carry them for him. He can have as many as he can carry. Such a child. And of course, like any good mother, she’ll end up carrying his shells.

She walks today, taking in the sights, so the sun is well above her by the time she makes it to the beach. There are others there, though, and one is familiar. She’s seen him around enough lately to know he belongs to the Basin, and feeling like making new friends (or enemies, she never knows), she makes her way over. “You live in the Basin, yea?” she says, her version of a polite hello. “I’m Weaver. She’s about to introduce Raven, but he’s already gone, halfway down the beach having spotted something. She can feel excitement and greed through their bond, and so she figures her companion is perfectly fine and perfectly happy to go collecting without her. As long as she can feel him, and she keeps one mental finger on their bond, warning him not to go far.

weaver