As usual, Orin had been working in the stable when she heard the commotion. First it was a banging, and then some voices that pricked her ears, piercing even over the sound of the pecking hens, the clopping hooves. Her white tipped ears perked and she raised her head, ears swiveling to catch more of the sound. The one voice... was it? “Titania!” She hadn't seen her daughter in days! Was this wishful thinking, or had she finally resurfaced?
Her heart tripped and she dropped the milk bucket she had been hauling. A small sailor worthy curse escaped her mouth as the bucket rocked and sloshed, white fluid spilling out onto the barn floor. Her fingers grasped the bucket quickly and steadied it, but not before half of the milk was gone. What a mess! But she didn't hesitate for one moment on what to address first. She flew from the stables, knowing that by the time she returned the milk would have probably frozen and been a bitch to clean, but she didn't care. A hand shot out as she soared from the barn, snatching her tan sheepskin cloak (for she didn't wear her fancy, nice pink one when she was working) and pulled it over her shoulders.
A few steps out of the ban she paused to listen. Yes, there was the voice again. Jogging toward the sounds, her daughter's loud complaining quickly became clear, and there on Skye's porch she saw the large form of her love. “Shawchert! Titania?” A quick cry, and then a question that spoke volumes in its tone. She reached the house in seconds and flew up the stairs just in time to catch the tail end of her raging daughter's tantrum.
“Psychos? Where?! Oh my girl, what happened? Are you hurt?” She tried to bustle past the others, her arms outstretched to embrace Titania. She hadn't seen her in over a week and had no idea where she had been, and for now was so happy to see her safe that she didn't care to be angry. Her eyes were already scanning her child's form, searching for wounds or signs of harm.