Her prolong absence had finally come to a close. Endowed with new resolve and determination, the Nomad female looked upon the coming day with not a sullen gaze but a smile. The snowfall was light touching her shoulder adorned with her trophies in fragile flakes that dissolved upon contact. Her other was left unoccupied, a rare instance considering the avian that often took residence upon it. Instead he was nestled against the woman’s chest resting upon a stable arm while being shielded from the drifting flakes. His eyes were closed but senses remained keenly aware of their surroundings as his master lead them on patrol.

Danger was far from commonplace in these peaceful lands, yet the Exultare had known for tranquil lands to be disturbed by starved beasts consumed by desperation. It was still early in the season, but hostility had no set course or time. The quiet, productive lives under her watch could easily be disturbed by a stray’s hapless attempt to feed their self-sustaining needs. Firmly, the woman believed vigilance even in these peaceful times was a necessary asset not to be forgotten. The lives of whom she cared for and love hung in the delicate balance.

Once her sector to patrol was carefully remarked and inspected, the rest of the day was hers. Home was still untouched since her return and even now as she craved the warmth of both furred den and companion, she kept her wander along the outskirts of the Wentworth then ventured beyond a frozen patch of the East river into the frozen fields of the plainlands. Her walk was to breathe in the crisp winter air and recall the times when she stood amongst her comrades and familiar and sang of their triumph through another year. Yes, they had prevailed and this time next year they would lift their voices again and sing with joy of their stories. They would weave tales from the threads of their imaginations and share them with one another to bring smiles to their faces. Truly it was an exciting time, one she wished to share with her newfound family.

But the habits of an old life were hard to kill, and in keeping with the traditions of the Exultare, she played role of the Shepard in this private instance and cried her victory to the heavens. Another year has come and will be gone and still I stand. Let another year pass so I may live through it as well until Fate carries me to the ethereal lands of my forbearers.

Her song receded when all the breath was exhausted from her lungs and she was left within a light-headed euphoric state. She smiled to the memory of the Exultare before her, spoken of fondly through their tales of achievements and greatness. She wished to call to them so that they would recognize her as one of their own, a Nomad in both heart and mind, just as she had done during the Samhain festivities. She wanted them to look upon her with admiration for her prosperities and congratulate her for overcoming the obstacles of life that were her faults and mistakes.

Yet her ears were not filled with their howling praise carried on the wind. A lighter, more known song played upon her ears; the voice none other than that of her Jiryu. The Nomad hardly looked upon their last meeting with fondness, but days had passed since then and the golden she-wolf was augmented with a new awareness and consideration for what had taken place that day. She could not be upset with the lady, for she had simply advised her with what she believed to be right and it was the fault of the Kozan alone for choosing her selfish wants over the greater good of a child’s wellbeing. The Ryu had been only but a friend to the Nomad as well as an advisor despite her younger age. Her role was not for show but well preserved in the woman’s golden eyes, one that commanded nothing more than an unwavering respect.

And when her ears received such a cry from the lady, X’yrin pricked her ears to listen. She moved forward with determined strides carried by curiosity as well as duty. The distance crossed between herself and Nayru was infinitesimal in the scheme of things. What she had hoped to see mattered little, only what her eyes presently beheld was what called for her attention. Naked fragility stood stark before her. Such a tiny frame taken by a stress she could not understand but sought to treat with whatever remedy she knew. “My Lady Nayru…?” Carefully the woman approached extending an umber glove to gently rub the curved back of her companion in soothing motions. The owl still held between her breast swiveled around to see what brought this disruption to his tranquility but rather than screech for the loss of his peace, he too gave a soft concerned hoot, allow his master to speak his worried words. “Are you alright?”

The lady looked quite small against the grand scale of white, but it was not her size that made it so. In the amber lights of the Exultare, Nayru had always stood with such a kind assurance of who she was and where her place would be within this world. Well concealed were the uncertainties the other might have had, a stark contrast to the emotions that played unrefined upon her own muzzle, and the Nomad drew strength from such an example. But to see her like this now… so small and frail, she took it upon herself to act as a pillar of strength be it needed or not for her comrade and friend.

Nayru had spoken of herself a tired, but the perceptive eye of the Exultare was not so easily fooled. Upon the woman’s delicate shoulders was a great emotional weight, recognized by having endured something of the like only recently. X’yrin could feel the manner in which the lady leaned into her, seeking what warmth she could spare, what kindness she could give to this yearning soul. And who was she to deny such a need? As she woman unfolded herself to the cold, X’yrin was by her side to encircle her shoulders and offer what warmth she could. Her face was one of worry as she looked over the Ryu’s tiny form. Her eyes wandered to the subtle rounding of the lady’s stomach and her heart was nearly taken by the cold.

But no, she couldn’t question it now, not when it was obvious the woman was carrying life. How it had happened, when and with whom were all questions she needn’t have an answer to now, nor felt it was appropriate for her to inquire. But the Exultare was ever curious, and as she peered into the lady’s belly as if the life within would somehow provide her with a truth, she found she wanted desperately to at least know with whom this life was created. Whatever question she wished to have answered was silenced as imperative action needed to be taken first. No wonder the woman was tired… Carefully she withdrew the owl from her chest and held him out at arm’s length. “My friend, please head home. I will return soon.” He needn’t be told twice before taken off from her arm, soaring to his comfortable height then letting his wings glide him toward the Wentworth. Without the owl, she was able to use both arms for her intentions.

“Pardon me my lady,” was the Nomad’s only offer of warning, before she slipped an arm under the smaller woman’s knees and lifted her up with her other arm supporting the lady’s back. X’yrin looked into her leader’s eyes wearing a soft scowl of disapproval on her muzzle and spoke words that mirror that gentle scolding. “Lady Nayru, you shouldn’t be out… like this,” she motioned with her muzzle to the woman’s belly. “At least wait until after the snowfall. Please my Lady, tell me the direction of your home so that I may take you there.” she asked, unaware of her leader’s homeless status.

The Nomad offered little protest to the claim of her leader and continued to offer what she could for support. It was painful to witness one she held in esteemed regard looking so vulnerable as the pregnant female was now. And try as she may to rid the disapproval from her face, it was a futile effort that further engraved the hurting look upon her face. “My Lady please…” X’yrin was near begging now, hoping her altered tone would compel some kind of a change in the female’s stubborn disposition and make her see reason.

Her ears perked up and forward as she was not given a single direction toward her residence, but the winery where she had stayed! Her brows receded into her bangs in shock and relaxed posture grew more tense. Whatever concern she had for the woman quickly ebbed away as genuine anger surged forward held in check by recollection of the lady’s vulnerable state. Nayru had to have known better. X’yrin had pegged her to be stubborn… but not to this extent. Not when unborn life depended on her being well to see them come into the world healthy. Residing with a cold cellar was far from the right course as far as she was concerned. And talk of the Abbey… the Nomad shuddered at the mention of that religion place, dreading stepping foot even if to escort her delicate comrade.

The golden warrior made no move in either direction; unable to, had she even wanted. The conscience had asserted itself strongly and would be damned to be ignored for the sake of appealing to the delusions created by the stubborn mind. “Nayru, I am sorry but no.” X’yrin barked firmly. “You are not simple, my Lady. You know they are not places for you to be especially as your condition progresses. You need a home, not a resting ground…” The Nomad made no attempt to reach for the lady again but instead gently guided her form with the lead of her arm toward the direction of the Wentworth. Whatever grievances she had again the Ryu would discarded for the sake of this more pressing matter. She could sort through her troubles later when after this development was sorted. “Nayru, stay with me.” Rarely did the woman assert her will outside of the hunting field, but such a time called for it when pitted against tenacity of this magnitude.

“Once the land freezes and the season worsen, it will be exceedingly difficult for you to find a home for you cubs… let alone for yourself,” she remained the lady as gently as her hardened tone would allow. The scowl upon her face was not so easily replaced especially as other thoughts began to invade her mind, more worries than anything. What if she had never encountered Nayru? What if the woman remained alone in those dreadful cellars? What if she had been hurt while carrying? And why… oh why hadn’t she told anyone of her condition? And had she, what fool would have left her be? “My Lady, please see reason. Come stay with me? At least til I find you a home…” she reiterated her request, this time allowing an inflection of her tone to raise it into a question.

Understanding, at last. The Nomad had believed herself to be too bold in her request. But it was a necessary means that need be taken not only for her Lady Nayru but for the life she carried as well. Truth be told, she hadn’t the slightest idea the implications that came with pup-carrying… or the birth or caring for them, for that matter. Not even among the Nomads had she witnessed the care that need be taken, but had heard the fuss, the advice of the family Shepards and the warnings of the swollen mothers hoping to prepare her for the inevitable gift of life. But she was a girl then, driven by a single purpose to aspire to the greatness that was her Shepard and father. She had ignored all but a few traces of information, and now hoped to recount something to aid her in caring for her leader and friend.

“I live in the Wentworth,” X’yrin replied softly after a momentary pause, already leading the piebald she-wolf toward the borders. “It is a den, my Lady. But I assure you it is spacious,” she smiled kindly. It would have been easier, she imagined, to paint an ideal image of what the Jiryu was being lead into, yet no matter how many attempts she made in her head it would always come out as her commenting on the lady’s height… or lack thereof. With each rehearsed example she felt herself grow warmer beneath the fur of her cheeks til she resorted to just giving up the attempt and let Nayru see for herself.

Though that was not all that troubled the golden warrior. Mention of Saluce again roused the agitated hackles. It was never in response to his name or presence, more so the topic itself when spoken with the lady in question. To any other, the state of their affairs would have been represented as a fact and nothing more. But to Nayru… well, it was another matter entirely. The silenced suddenly donning upon their conversation was hastily dispelled with a rough cough hoping to provide a distraction to her own self-induced discomfort. “We have talked about it,” she admitted cautiously, spying the smaller female from her peripheral. “But I feel he still enjoys his time to himself.” Again she cleared her throat. “Would his visits bother you, my Lady?”

'Is there something I need to now…?’ How she desperately wanted to ask…