Siku!

The mostly white fey had been given free range of Dahlia de Mai. Neither Conor nor Nayru spoke against her staying for as long as she liked, although Farore was not sure how long she really would like to stay. Her purpose had been to find Nayru and take her home. Where ever home was. Their parents were nomads and Din surely had rejoined them. If Nayru and Farore caught up, then they would all be together again, as they hadn't been in a very long time. And yet, it seemed Nayru was not leaving. Now or ever. Shortly after Conor had learned of their heritage he had promoted her sister. Gamma. It meant little to nothing for Farore, but to Nayru it seemed a big deal. Anything with Dahlia de Mai was a big deal to the cow patterned creature. Even without her high rank Nayru would stay. How her sister had come to love a pack so fiercely was beyond Farore, but she could not fight the devotion that Nayru held fast to. There was nothing to do or say and Farore decided to just wait. Wait for something to change perhaps. Even if she already knew nothing would.

The lanky and slim creature made her way about Dahlia de Mai, growing familiar with the lands that Nayru had dedicated her life to. Wolfville, Berwick. The harbor. The ravine. The sandy shores all along the coast. The fresh water spring. How had one pack come to claim such a vast landscape? There was no denying the beauty of the land, but it wasn't enough. It wasn't enough to convince her of the merit of the pack as Farore went from house to house in Berwick, finding rubbish and ruins and why would anyone want to make a home here, or anywhere? Why not wander and be free and go where one pleased when one wanted? Yet she stayed, because Nayru stayed and as she moved away from Berwick towards the vineyards she drummed her long fingers against her thigh, sighing lightly and wondering if she would ever make her sister understand.

Coming up to one of the shacks of the vineyard she pushed open the heavy wooden door. It was a cellar and as Farore descended the steps in her aimless wandering a musty and fruity smell greeted her. Down in the cellar it took a moment for her eyes to adjust but once they did she discovered a few remaining bottles of dark red liquid. Wine. Nayru had told her that Dahlia de Mai had wine, left voer from when the humans had created it in mass and sold it for a profit. Still, despite the plundering and the pack members use over the time Dahlia de Mai had lived, there was still some wine to be found. Gingerly Farore lifted one of the bottles off the floor where it had settled and cracked open the neck, forgeing the need to pry out a cork. Lifting the broken bottle to her lips, but not touching, she poured some liquid in her mouth and swallowed. “Erg, yuck.” This also was not enough.