Land of Wolves

LOW.8

ubiquitous

The terrain felt smooth in Syera's arms.

She cradled Amoret with an ambitious ease, determined to be regarded as both a nurturing and naturally daunting figure to the dazed woman. Syera had lifted the narrow, human form until the top of Amoret's head was tucked safely underneath her chin. It was a feeling that Amoret had long forgotten—to be carried in the warm arms of another. Syera's hands held onto Amoret's thighs with a touch that wasn't tight nor demanding. It was merely a supportive action, and could easily be interpreted as simply a friend helping a friend, but Amoret was unsure of her intentions. Despite knowing of the dangers, however, Amoret found herself leaning into the lycan and even savouring the comforting experience.

"If you look that way-" Maël pointed towards a cluster of looming trees, "-there's noticeable gaps throughout the foliage. We believe that nearby rogues have been forming groups, but still living separately from one another. And, while the relationship is mutually beneficial, we have been left with many questions as to why they started cohabiting in the first place."

"Nuallán has written letters for you to pass on." Njálli added, "You will be expected to share this news alongside the invitations to the Sankori Solstice. It's short notice, but it's important."

"That's a lot to carry, isn't it?" Faolán asked.

"Yes, but you are strong." Maël patted the boy's back with loud, hard slaps not fit for the weak. Faolán tripped and skipped over his unsteady feet. His chest reverberated to the jarring beat. "You have never failed us before."

"Yeah, you're right." Faolán lifted his shoulders, highlighting the fact that he was now tall and stronger than ever, but his gaze quickly darkened with a disappointed frown. "I've never had to carry so many letters before, though. The trails are fine to travel on, but it's the added weight that might make me fall behind."

"You could take Amoret with you." Syera's whisper fanned Amoret's tinged cheek, "Only if the rest of us lycans of Apricus do not suffice."

Faolán curled into himself further. He wasn't sure if he could take Amoret with him to travel across the immensity of Earthara's sea, especially with the entire lycan kind relying on the success of his assignment. A trip from a small island to another was one thing, but to travel from territory to territory was something else entirely. He wondered if she could survive the harsh winter of Nethilor, or the mucky, damp air of Elisora, or the staggering chill of Wensera. Their climates were completely different, and there was really nowhere else with such blaring heat like Sankori. And, while the island of Velaris has a fever that erupts from deep within its core, it is balanced by the glacial of the ocean. Still, Faolán had a feeling that Amoret had never trekked through thick snow before, let alone frost, and he would be right. After all, she knew nothing of Sankori, which was the neighbouring territory to her own island. The territory of Nethilor meant very little as the ragged mountains of hail and ice were—if anything—mere dreams to her.

"I'm not sure," Faolán blurted.

"Ah," Syera mused knowingly. "Well, Faolán, be sure to keep us updated as much as you can. And, if her heart does not call out to any of us back at our village, then at least take her as far as to the lycans of Meliora. She might just be the rain that they have been praying so desperately for."

Amoret shifted her legs, prompting Syera to not only look down at the sudden shuffle but to also catch Amoret's wide gaze. "Would you like to continue the path on your feet, little human?"